Halloween: Purgatory
by AyanaRin
Summary: A young girl who forcefully develops an obsession with the infamous killer Michael Myers. After meeting him as a child, Elaine originally intended to try befriending him, however, fate has a funny way of messing things up. /After watching all the movies, reading the comics and browsing fanfiction, I decided to write my own rendition of the Halloween Series!
1. Meeting The Shape

**"Bond's always formed in the most unlikely of places. And sometimes? Scar's came with them. But, what didn't I expect, is when I became attached to a silent killer, all those years ago."**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Meeting The Shape** **  
** **\- 8 Months before Halloween - March 1969 -**

 **I** still remember the day I arrived at Smith's Grove Sanitarium. It was a windy, spring day, I was only nine at the time. A week prior, I'd been admitted to the emergency room at Graham Hospital, in Berwick, Illinois, after a rather traumatic event, involving the loss of my parents. The doctor's had declared my case to be too severe for them to handle. It took a lot to convince them that I needed more help, then they were able to provide. I don't remember how many professionals I had to tearfully break down to, how many fits I had to throw, for someone to finally realize how severe my condition was.

The transfer had been terrible, it was late evening when the doctor's arrived as my escort. All I had was the costume, a kind officer, named Daniel Winters, brought me from the place I once called home. Two nurses picked me up, Marion and Dawn. The ride to Smith's Grove took over an hour, and had been rather uncomfortable, as the two women prodded me for information regarding the incident, despite being given all necessary knowledge from the hospital staff.

I understood that this was part of the process. But, the memories weren't something I wanted to recall. The same questions were repeated as I entered Dr. Carpenter's office when I arrived, filling out the required paperwork for anyone being admitted.

 **\- March 23rd, 1969 -**

At the crack of dawn, maybe a bit before, Dr. Wynn had come to assess my overall health. Blood tests were run, my blood pressure was taken, checked to see if I had a fever, that sort of thing. Dr. Evan Lussier, the psychiatrist who'd been treating me at the hospital came by, discussing medications I had been on, what I could take, what I shouldn't. Warning the doctor and the staff that I had tried to take my own life, swallowing pills, even with my young age.

My medicine had been drastically changed, and any medication changes could be unpleasant, dealing with possible side effects, meaning I would be kept under watch, though I was told the side effects weren't dangerous. As if I even cared…

The first day had been even worse than the transport there. I was kept in a private room overnight, while they evaluated me, seeing if I'd continue to be a threat to myself, or if I'd threaten the others. Four days had passed before I would be transferred to the shared room.

I'd been woken up by a nurse shaking me, yelling at me to get breakfast in the common room. She told me about the girl's I'd been sharing a room with now on.

Two other girl's were there, they were older than me. Samantha, a 13 year-old, ebony haired girl, who suffered from delusions, and Chelsea, a 17 year-old brunette, she was obsessive and had a severe drug addiction. I heard Chelsea had been recovering for a few years, since she was 13. She'd made a quick recovery and was released about a year and a half, just to be readmitted recently, just after her 16th birthday. And there was a third girl, named Nancy, also 13, and currently, in solitary as punishment for mocking and bullying other patients.

I wasn't told much about the boys, just given a couple names. James, Roger, Michael, Anthony and Mason. The nurse told me that Michael and Roger were both troubled children and though, they were behaved enough to spend time in the common room, I should stay away from them.

My vision was spotty and blurred at moments. Upon telling the nurse, she told me not to worry and that it was just a side effect. She hadn't been very nice, and honestly seemed as if I'd disrupted her whole life by telling her about my condition.

I stayed quiet after that. Kept to myself. Samantha sat next to me, she started warning me of one of the troublesome boys, Michael, told me he was bad news, to stay away from him. He'd killed three boys within the past five years and Roger had killed one himself. Of course, I didn't believe her. They were allowed in the common room. If he was attacking people, he would be locked up with the other inmates in the building instead of the juvenile ward.

 **Right?**

That evening, I hadn't really settled into the shared room. Chelsea wept whenever the lights were shut off, it sounded awful. She scared me. If I didn't know better, I would have thought she was being tortured, being forced to beg for whoever was hurting her to stop. Those were cries I was very familiar with.

Samantha had been talking to herself, seemingly having a full conversation. Whenever she fell asleep, her mumbling continued and her dreams seemed pretty violent. The night shift nurse didn't seem to care, she checked the room once and wasn't seen from again.

I didn't feel safe. It was hard to sleep.

 **\- March 28th, 1969 -**

The next morning came and I was introduced to group therapy. Today was only the three of us girls, though, I was alerted that at time's we'd have the boy's in the group as well. Group therapy was only once, occasionally twice a week. The rest of the days we'd be given individual therapy, talking to the doctors alone.

The group was just to help everyone get along and to encourage supporting each other, while solo talks were meant for the real breakthroughs.

Another therapy I'd been introduced to was art therapy. This was normally done in the common room. It was far easier for the whole group to participate at once.

The nurses couldn't be bothered for anything. They wouldn't respond, no matter your concerns. I'd have to wait till next individual session to speak with Dr. Loomis, or Dr. Wynn. The doctor's actually listened to complaints.

And since, I began experiencing this strange blockage in my vision, my depression was only getting worse, seeing as the nursing staff didn't care. I'd be lying if I hadn't thought of trying to horde my medicine for a few days, in order to take everything at once and hopefully overdose… Everything I did felt as if I was a bother. I didn't belong there, and I feared the outside world. There wasn't a place for me. It would be better if I simply, didn't exist.

When Dr. Wynn heard my confession, he urged me to interact with the others more. I'd been keeping to myself too much and I needed to make friends, so I wasn't suffering and lonely. That was a dangerous combination.

But, Samantha was a lot to handle with her delusions. Her conversations turned to arguments, which occasionally meant screaming. She'd also taken to sitting on the edge of my bed, whispering to me while I slept. And Chelsea, if you didn't act or respond the way she wanted or expected, she got angry.

And Nancy, well, she was certainly a piece of work. She pretty much spent a lot of her time trying to mock the others.

I tried to avoid all of them.

Rather, I spent free time reading. I did spend quite a lot of time in the common room, rather the girls' room.

Strangely, Michael, was also in the common room a lot. He just stared out a window, watching life pass. He never talked. Not to the other patients, not to the staff. His stare was blank, as if he wasn't really there.

Somehow, despite the rumors, it didn't stop the others from trying to tease him. As rumors had it, he was a killer, and as kids do, they wanted him to prove he was the big, bad wolf, everyone thought him to be.

He **did** .

Kids would always get injured because of this. Though, no one had been killed since 1964. At least, no one that could be traced back to Michael, or any other patient in the juvenile ward. There had been whisperings of other deaths elsewhere in the facility.

Despite somehow feeling that Michael had been the source of these minor attacks, I felt drawn to him. Compelled to spend time with him.

While in the common room, I decided to sit across from him reading my book, rather than, on the other side of the room. Of course, neither of us said a word. I did catch Michael, glancing over at me. He seemed curious. I didn't seem to fear him and I wasn't teasing him.

I can only imagine he was trying to figure out what I wanted.

 **\- April 1st, 1969 - 7 Months before Halloween -**

The next morning, during my individual therapy, Dr. Wynn asked about my sudden interest in Michael.

"How do you feel when you're near Michael? Do you feel fear?"

"No." I shook my head.

"Hmmm, I'd say that's a bit of improvement. You haven't been close to many, especially males, since you arrived. Perhaps your fear is subsiding. Would you feel comfortable for the male nurses to check on you?"

I shot a worried glance up at him, as he halted his writing on the clipboard he was carrying. "I don't trust them." My reply was nothing short of a mumble.

I was surprised that Dr. Wynn had heard me. "Is that all? You know they are here to help, no harm will come to you." He continued writing things down, raising a brow.

There was a rage inside of me. It boiled. They were supposed to help me, protect me. It was all bullshit.

"You're **lying** ." I replied sternly, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

"I assure you, Elaine, I-"

"He said he wouldn't hurt me. That he wouldn't hurt..."

"Yes, he promised not to hurt you or your mother. But, he lied. He is not a good man. The staff here is good, however."

By then, I refused to look up at the doctor. He liked to read my emotions, and I didn't like him to know how I felt. The doctor also hated when I refused to talk to him, which is the strategy I'd reverted to.

"Young lady, I hope you realize that you are not going to recover until you open up and talk about the events leading up to your incident. Do you want to carry the anger, the guilt, for the rest of your life?"

Again, I refused to say anything. I heard a disgruntled sigh from the man.

"I'll see you again on Wednesday. I hope to have better results then. I just want you to talk to me, dear, make me understand what happened, why you tried to take your own life."

My eyes stung. I was trying to suppress the events of that night, but, everyone kept bringing it up.

So my father hit my mother, and he touched me inappropriately. That was normal. I was the one at fault for trying to defend myself. At least, that's what I believed back then.

That's why I tried to find an easy escape. I didn't want to witness any more nights where my parents would scream at each other.

I suppose, even without ending my own life, I stopped those nights from happening.

 **\- April 3rd, 1969 -**

Dr. Loomis was much more understanding. He knew I needed time, that I wanted time. Dr. Wynn seemed as if he wanted a miracle recovery from me, so he could send me to the nearest orphanage.

Though, since I still didn't want to talk about the events, he, too, had decided to ask about Michael. His interests were different.

"Has Michael said anything to you? A greeting, a threat? Anything at all?"

Of course, I wasn't aware that he could even speak, I assumed he was mute. And that is what I told the doctor. "I didn't know he could talk."

"Ah, yes. He was always a quiet boy. But, even so, his mother told me that he used to speak to her quite a lot. He hasn't spoken since he came here."

He paused, continuing his examination. I noticed that I was much more open with him, than with the other doctor.

"You know, Michael and you have something in common. Aside from your quiet natures, though, I cannot say it's a good thing to have in common. It is still a familiarity."

This drew my interest. I knew nothing about Michael, and now I was being told we have something in common? I needed to know, so I gave Loomis enthusiastic glance.

"I apologize if this brings up any negative feelings, Ellie. You see, Michael also lost his mother, nearly four years ago."

Honestly, I didn't have high feelings about either of my parents, I was closer to my mother, so of course, when father had killed her, I lost my mind. Yet, I still remembered how drunk she used to get. I hated when she drank.

"I suspect from the marks his mother tried to hide on his little sister that his father was abusive as well. Still not a nice thing to have in common with someone, maybe you two can find some kind of solace in one another, hmm?"

 **\- April 5th, 1969 -**

Dr. Loomis had also been trying to encourage Michael to talk to me. I knew, as Nancy had taunted me that evening before we went to sleep.

"Gonna try and befriend the devil, huh?"

I tried facing the other way to ignore her, she grabbed me by my shoulders, forcing me to look at her.

"He'll kill you, ya know. He doesn't like when people get close to him."

I sighed, wanting nothing more than to brush the conversation off.

"Are you gonna fuck him? Maybe he'll touch you like your dad did."

Something inside me had snapped, hearing those words. Tears stung my eyes, I was whimpering, but, my eyes stared at nothing. It was hard to control myself, easier for me to just shut down. Nancy, however, wasn't having it.

"Already taking lessons from the freak? Gonna try and pretend no ones here? Fuck off. They should lock you both up in the ward, let those guys run their hands all over you."

Samantha's head perked up as I pushed Nancy to the floor, closing my fist and punching her in the face. And again. And again.

"Nancy's gonna die here..." Samantha mumbled, chuckling at the thought.

Sadly, Nancy's screams were loud enough that she called attention to the nurses and before I could do any major harm, we'd been pulled apart and the doctor had been called.

The doctor on duty wasn't one I'd interacted with. Dr. Hill, an Asian woman. She had a motherly charm about her.

I'd been taken to her office, so we could speak privately.

"Why did you do it?" Simple and to the point. I liked her.

"She deserved it."

Dr. Hill kept her eyes on me.

"Yes, from her record, I'm sure she probably did. Dr. Loomis has reported that you are the best behaved patient he has here, and I don't want to send you to solitary, so I need to know why your personality has suddenly changed."

My eyes wandered to the floor, I wasn't sure what to tell her. The truth? A lie? If Nancy was a troublemaker, they'd probably believe a lie. Yet, I settled on telling the truth. Well, the half truth. I didn't want to mention Michael's involvement.

"She told me that I deserved all the things that-..."

Finishing the sentence was almost impossible. My hands tightened around the chair arms, body trembling.

"I know it's hard, sweetie, but, you **need** to verbally tell me."

Hill had a warm smile across her face. She was understanding. She wanted to help. Her welcoming aura made it a little easier to choke out the words.

"She said I deserve everything my father did to me... And.."

I paused again. Biting my lip.

"And that I deserved more..."

Dr. Hill seemed upset, her face grew red.

"Oh, no baby, you most certainly do not deserve that! No one does!" She placed her hands on my shoulders, comforting me.

"I'll make sure that after she gets out of the infirmary that she'll be the one going back to solitary."

Afterwards, Dr. Hill had Wallace, the security guard, escort me back. When I walked into the room, Chelsea had thrown her arms around me. Had her past also been similar?

 **\- April 6th, 1969** **  
****  
**The next morning, Michael was back in the common room. I decided to sit next to him, rather than, across.

"Hi, Michael."

He didn't respond, not even a glance. Nor, any semblance he even realized I was there.

I wasn't offended. But, something made me wonder if he was traumatized, or, if he'd just been biding his time.

 **Waiting.**

His silence made me uncomfortable. Though it was hard, I persisted, keeping my seat next to him for a couple hours, before dinner was called.

 **-**

As it so happens, one of the staff went missing on the night shift. The nurses were chatting rather loudly about the events. He apparently disabled the inside camera's and left the building. Leaving spots of blood, before getting in his car and apparently driving it off a cliff.

With the circumstances, it seemed impossible for Michael to have anything to do with it. Yet, his aura was all over the situation. The nurses seemed share the same uncomfortable feeling I had, day's earlier.

Still, I decided to continue pursuing him, sitting next to him during common room hours.  
This time, I wanted to try playing his game.

Watching. Waiting.

Soon, I realized I was nowhere near as patient as he was. I'd have a long way to go.

"Michael." My voice was stern, as I called his name.

He glanced up, letting me know he was aware.

Now that I had his attention, I wasn't exactly sure what to say. I didn't want to say anything that might offend him. But, calling his name so harshly,and saying nothing afterwards, that would totally piss him off, right? The warmth in my cheeks was unbearable.

"S-sorry if I've been invading your personal space… I just, I don't want to be alone… I also, don't want to be with…. Well, them." My gaze gestured towards the other girls.

Michael was three years older than me, and in a roundabout way, I just confessed that I liked him. A warmth made its way to the surface of my cheeks.

He shrugged, turning his attention back to the window. It was raining today.

Rain had always been my favorite weather. I wondered what Michael's favorite time of day was? Deciding to watch, rather than ask him, I kept an eye out, watching for some kind of excitement when lightning raced across the sky. There was no reaction.

Soon, his gaze was fixated back on me. His head cocked, slightly to the side, as if he were wondering why I was still there, why I wanted to be there? When I looked over at him, I noticed that Dr. Loomis and Dr. Wynn had been standing in the back of the room, examining us.

Michael hadn't even glanced their way, the look on his face, however, was almost as if he was saying something along the lines of: 'They're annoying. Aren't they?'

I could feel fury radiating from him. Michael didn't care for this place, he hated the doctors. The darkness within, made itself evident within his chilled stare. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking through me, as if with one glance he figured me out. I shuddered. Michael wasn't threatening me, it was meant as a warning.

If I got in his way, I'd be disposed. That was easy to understand.

The doctors decided it would be a good idea to separate us a little while later. Apparently, the way Michael and I were staring at each other was too eerie for Dr. Loomis. He made sure that I was alright, and that I hadn't been threatened. What did he think of Michael? Not very highly, that's for sure.

Dr. Wynn, however, seemed even more interested in the two of us.

Throughout the rest of the evening, I wasn't able to shake his stare. I could feel it. He was somehow watching me. Though, I couldn't see him, he shouldn't have been anywhere near me. I felt him. Within the shadows. It was hard to sleep, I kept hearing footsteps, walking down the hall, walking through the room, yet no one was following them. I was watching, waiting to see someone, anyone. No one ever showed.

Tonight night, I began having strange dreams. Dreams about being killed, by him… By, Michael.

The first dream, had possibly been the most frightening.

 **-**

I stood in a plain white room. No door in sight, no windows, no people. My head hurt, the pounding, unbearable. Stepping backwards, my foot landed on a piece of paper, nearly causing me to fall. Papers were scattered around my feet, each with the outlining sketch of a mask, ready to be cut out.

Those footsteps echoed around me again, yet no matter how many times I turned around, no one was ever around.

My body felt hot now, it was burning. My lungs were also on fire, making it hard to breath. Beads of red now began to fall from the ceiling, splashing against the floor, the blood was creating a pattern on the paper masks.

A straight line with two separate, smaller lines meeting in the center, creating a triangle formation.

The footsteps stopped.

Looking behind myself once more, Michael was standing there, in the center of the room, a large kitchen knife in one hand, and a mask in the other.

"Michael?"

He tilted his head in a similar fashion from before, taking a step forward, I stepped away, slipping on the bloodied papers, however, instead of landing on the hard floor, I fell into darkness.

When I eventually landed, I hit the ground harshly, my leg suffering a lot of damage, as a tree branch had torn through my skin. Somehow, I was still able to stand, albeit there was a searing pain, stretching across the gash.

The forest was dark, the tree's were mostly barren of leaves and the breeze was frigid. I didn't know where I was going, I had no choice but to start walking.

Freezing, in pain.

My head still hurt, my body was still hot. It was strange how these feelings seemed to overlap each other so perfectly that I could feel them all together and yet, separate enough that neither drowned out the other.

Even with the heat in my body, I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to warm up.

Eventually, through my mindless wandering, I stumble upon a jack-o-lantern, illuminating the tree before it, showing a bloodied arrow, pointing towards the right. Similar jack-o-lanterns and marks of blood continued down the path, leading to an old house.

Walking up the stairs, that same strange symbol marked the door.

I noted that the paint was peeling, shutters were damaged and ripped off and one of the windows was broken. The house was abandoned. Thus, the door opened easily, creaking every step of the way.

The inside of the house was in no better condition, furniture still remained, but covered in dust and cobwebs, the wallpaper was peeling and dirt littered the floor. There was another red arrow pointing upstairs, urging me to follow it. As much as I didn't want to, I really didn't have a choice.

At the top of the stairs, I saw Michael, leaning against a doorway, examining the knife, which was freshly coated in blood. Looking up, he saw me and retreated back into the room, the door slowly swinging closed, but, staying cracked open. That symbol was on this door too.

I couldn't convince myself to go any further, that symbol scared me. It wasn't the blood, or the strange events, it was that damn symbol. There was a darkness about it. The same darkness, Michael carried.

Apparently, I wasn't going to be able to just stand there, thinking about my next move.

I was grabbed from behind, pinned against the wall. It was too dark, I couldn't see who the assailant was. The figure was only a shape in the dark. In my heart I knew, this was Michael. I wasn't sure how he'd gotten behind me.

"Michael…" I whispered his name again. Hoping to evoke a response.

The response I got wasn't the one I wanted. While pinned down a harsh force hit my left shoulder, a dull throbbing pain made itself apparent, the pain grew and panic set in. He was going to kill me? And for what? Trying to befriend him?

"Elaine!"  
Someone yelled my name, it echoed, sounding distant. The voice was familiar. One of the doctors?

"She's not waking up, she hasn't been responsive since before I called you."

The shapes head cocked to the side again, like he too could hear the voices.

"You need to let me go, Michael!" I screamed, hoping to reach him, convince him that he wouldn't get anything out of killing me.

This was a dream and I was trapped inside, pinned by Michael.

"He struck again, I knew that child was nothing but bad news!"

"Sir, Michael hasn't been in this room, neither has anyone besides the other girls. Maybe it's a reaction to her medicine?"

"It's always a coincidence with him! That's what he wants us to believe."

The knife was pulled out and Michael let go of me, dropping to my knees, I clutched my shoulder. He hadn't hit anything vital. Thankfully.

The shape bent down, placing his hand against my cheek, moving to grip my chin, forcing me to look up at his second later. He turned my head, examining me.

Again, he let go, cocking his head. This time I could feel confusion from him. I realized I hadn't been crying. I was afraid of dying, but, not afraid of him. Maybe, I could use this confusion to my advantage.

It was a struggle to make it to my feet again. He watched. Curious as to how I'd react.

"I need to wake up, help me, Michael." I begged, reaching for him, grabbing his shirt, only to be met with his hand closing around my throat, blocking the airflow.

I couldn't make another sound, as I flailed, struggling to get loose. My lungs gasped for breath. Finally, my mind started to fade, my eyes forcefully closing, I was barely keeping conscious.

"She stopped breathing, give me room!"

There's no way I could pry his hands away from my neck, his grip was too tight. Instead, I reached towards him, resting my hand on his cheek, feeling the mask brush against my wrist. His grip loosened momentarily before returning and throwing me down the stairs. I blacked out before hitting the bottom.

 **To be continued...**


	2. Entrapment

**Chapter 2: Entrapment  
\- 7 Months Before Halloween - April 1969 -**

* * *

 **S** till I heard the voices, calling me, begging me to open my eyes, take a breath, anything. But, in that moment, I was nothing. Only a shell. In a way, I wanted to let go, to allow the darkness to swallow me. Yet, despite being absolutely engulfed by shadows, I could still see the light, feel the warmth caressing me.

Easily the warmth had outweighed the frigid darkness.

Still deep in slumber, my lungs received a fresh breath of air. The outside voices calmed. I'd live, for now.

My eye's still wouldn't open. The light moving across my eyes told me I was being transported. Most likely to the infirmary. Dr. Loomis tightly held my hand. A warmth resonated from him. I knew, with him around, I'd be safe. I felt as they laid me down, and the sting of a needle, being poked into my vein.

"She's doesn't realize she was conscious. She had no reaction." Loomis spoke, as they moved around the room.

"It must be a side effect from the medicine. She was having a bit of trouble with her breathing."

"The side effect wasn't supposed to be this severe. Loss of vision, and fever, yes. Falling unconscious, seizing and losing function of her lungs, no. This has to be something more."

"You're paranoid, Doctor. If it was something more, we wouldn't have recovered her so easily."

A shadow moved over me, blocking the light. My body jerked and my eyes fluttered open. Dr. Loomis was standing next to me, messing with one of the machines. The nurse was nowhere to be seen. The room was mostly dark, aside from where the doctor was working.

He walked to the counter, throwing something in the trash bin, glancing back at me, before having to do a double take noticing I was sort of awake.

"Elaine, can you see me, hear me?"

I slowly nodded my head.

"Good." He breathed a sigh of relief. "You weren't aware of your surroundings earlier. Didn't even realize we were in the room. You had us worried."

He walked back over to me now, moving my hair from my face. "Do you know what happened? Was someone else near you? Did they try to hurt you? Was Michael around?" There was a franticness in his tone.

There was no way I could tell Dr. Loomis about the dream I had. Even as a young child, I saw the paranoia he was suffering, trying to somehow figure out what Michael was doing to cause injury and death to the staff and patients, all without being noticed, or suspected by anyone else.

It was hard to speak, but, I managed a shaky voice.

"Michael is my friend…"

Without giving him a clear yes or no, I figured that if I didn't seem threatened by him, Loomis would give up trying to get such a confession from me.

"He's your friend?" His expression was puzzled. Like none of the other kid's had ever tried befriending him. I knew they all seemed to avoid him, I didn't think it would be so surprising when I persisted in wanting to get to know him.

Again, I nodded.

Soon after Loomis left, I blacked out again.

I heard their worried chatter, I'd only been awake a couple of minutes and I fell back into an unconsciousness. Back into the darkness.

Occasionally I'd open my eyes, due to this, the doctors weren't too worried. Assuming I needed to sleep it off, I suppose.  
However, on the third night, I woke up, and instead of seeing a doctor at my bedside, it was Michael, stare as blank as ever.

The room was dark, Michael only illuminated by the lights the machines put off. How had he even got here without the nurses noticing, or the other boys telling someone that he left the room?

I drifted in and out, my eyelids kept falling. The anxiety of Michael being in my room was the only thing allowing me to stay haphazardly awake.

He never moved, he only stood there, staring through me.

My pulse increased, Michael, glanced at the monitor, I could have sworn for a moment, I saw him smirk. Like, he was proud he scared me. That had been his goal, he warned me and he showed me what could happen if I didn't obey. I felt as if I was only alive because, I kept telling the doctor's that he wasn't involved. If I would have thought of placing the blame on him, I wouldn't have taken that breath. He would've just let me die.

After a few minutes, of trying to keep awake, I felt myself giving into the slumber I'd been cursed to fall into. Michael had turned, ready to walk away. A thought occurred to me the same second. If I truly believed that he was behind my condition, that the dream had caused it, surely he'd be the only one who could fix it?

"Michael!" My voice was weak and hoarse, but, strong enough for him to hear. He stopped, not bothering to look at me. I knew he was listening. "I-I can't wake up Michael…"

My heart rate increased again. One of the machines had started beeping, drawing the attention of a nurse as I heard her loudly grumble. "I'm never going to get anything done if these damn things keep going off…"

"It's not like you're doing much anyway." Another nurse replied in a snarky tone.

Michael turned towards me, anxiety pounding through my body, my mind convincing me that he was going to silence me. Permanently.  
He placed a hand over my mouth, using the other to tell me to keep quiet. Though, before the nurse had a chance to enter, I blacked out again.

I awoke back in nightmare land.

Laying at the bottom of the stairs, I'd been oh-so casually tossed down, I heard the familiar, heavy, disembodied footsteps from before, they approached me, stopping for a brief moment, before continuing up the stairs.

The wound on my leg was no longer there, I couldn't feel the burn. The heat that had spread throughout my body was gone too. My splitting headache remained and was accompanied by a new pain, a dull pain around my throat.

It was surprisingly easy to get to my feet, at least for someone recently choked out and thrown down a flight of stairs. I did find that I was somewhat out of breath and had to inhale deeply a few times before, I felt that I could attempt walking up the stairs. Where I knew he was waiting.

As before, each stair creaked, and if he didn't know I was on my way, there's no way he didn't now.

At the top of the stairs, where he pressed me against the wall, there was now one of those strange symbols. I had to look up the meaning later. If there was any way I could find it. I couldn't ask the doctors, they'd want me to explain where I'd seen it. And, I had no sane reason.

That door had been left cracked open again, the flickering of a candle from inside, illuminated the room. He was in there, waiting for me. And now, he was going to let me out of this prison. I'd force myself out if I had to.

The halls seemingly grew darker, with each step closer to that door. Downstairs no longer existed, instead it was a pitch black hole, devoid or sound or shape. The other rooms upstairs were the same, my only choice this time was to enter that room. Unless I wanted to disappear with the rest of the home.

Placing my hand against the door, the wood was frozen to the touch. I pushed the door open, straight ahead, positioned in the corner of the room was a vanity, the mirror on the vanity also donned the symbol. What was Michael's obsession with that rune?

There was a doorway, just around the bed. I couldn't see much, it appeared that there was another bedroom was connected. A bloody handprint was smeared across the frame. It hadn't been from someone trying to make their way from room to room, rather they were trying to keep from getting pulled back into the previous room.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly maneuvered through the room, pausing as I stood in front of the doorway. Michael was on the other side. I could feel him. Taking one more step, I could feel the dull throbbing in my left shoulder, reacting to the sudden muscle spasm, my hand covered the wound, hoping to soothe it. I was met with a slippery, yet sticky substance under my fingers. My own blood, partially dried.

This nightmare **had** to end. I forced myself to walk through the doorway.

Michael was standing to the left. Mask over his face, knife still gripped tightly in his hand.

He wanted me to run, the doorway behind me vanished, but the door behind him, opened. I knew he was stronger than me, there was no chance. Perhaps, death here, was release? I hadn't been able to wake up because I was merely knocked unconscious. That was his game, if you didn't die, you didn't wake up.

What would happen if you choose death? Choose to die at his hand?

"Michael I'm not going to run." He didn't move. I took a step closer, still no reaction.

"Michael, you need to let me-" My sentence was cut off, he grabbed my shoulder, digging his thumbnail into the wound, before plunging his knife into my abdomen. I fell into him, he was the only thing keeping me upright. The air being knocked from my lungs.

Suddenly, the urge to run made itself apparent. I wanted to push past him, try and make my way out to the hallway. At the same time, I wanted to collapse. My breathing was shallow, it hurt far too much to try and force deeper breaths.

With what little strength I had, my fist clutched the fabric of his shirt, allowing me to keep myself on my feet, pulling myself up. Michael let go of my shoulder, moving his arm under my own, keeping me supported as he yanked the blade out, pulling my body closer as he re-positioned the knife.

The blade was aimed toward my right lung.

My hand loosened, I was falling back into the abyss. How much would I have to suffer, before being allowed to escape?

The knife broke my skin, and I shot up in bed, panicked and breathing frantically.

Dr. Hill was at my side immediately, putting her arm around me for support. "Calm down, baby, everything is alright!." I was still shaking, but managing to slow my breathing.

Part of me thought I was still in that dream, that he was trying to trick me, so I'd let my guard down. He liked the thrill of the chase, from what I'd seen.

"It was just a nightmare. You're fine, Elaine. Everything's fine."

 **-April 29th, 1969-**

The next morning, after making sure I was awake and alert, and going to stay that way, I was briefed on everything that had happened.

When I first began dreaming, I was sleep talking, repeating the words "Don't let him get me." This of course was reference to, Michael. I convinced the doctors it was a reference to my father.

Soon after, I developed a high fever, began thrashing about, seizure-like behavior. I nearly died several times. And I'd been pretty much in a comatose state for two weeks.

I was kept in the infirmary for a few more days, to monitor my health, before they allowed me to return to the girls' room.

 **-May 3rd, 1969-**

Samantha, was delighted by my return, sitting on the edge of my bed most of the day with me. I didn't really want to leave the room. I was afraid of seeing Michael, of being swept into that dream world once again. Samantha was fidgeting with the bed frame, unscrewing a screw and tightening it again. She was nervous, probably picking up on my own nerves.

"Michael hasn't been out in the common room, since that night. But, he was there this morning." She spoke in a light voice, assuring no one besides me could hear her.

"You're in danger. But, he's not the danger. He's the obsession." Samantha didn't make eye contact with me after that.

"What are you talking about? Sam, you need to tell me." I scooted closer to her. "Please, Sam… If you know something…"

Still, she refused to look at me.

"The symbol. It will bind the two of you together. Thorn is interested in you, because you are trying to be close to him. I think that's why he tried to hurt you. He doesn't want you involved. He wants you to see what he is. The evil inside him."

Before I could get another word out, Sam leaped off the bed, returning to her own.

 _Dr. Wynn walked in seconds later._

"How are you feeling, Elaine? I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." He glanced over at Samantha. "To any of you."

I felt afraid. No longer did I trust this doctor. There was something about him, something that sent chills up my spine. They way he talked to me, the way he looked at Samantha, as if he were threatening her, telling her to keep her mouth shut.

"I'm alright….. I'll be alright…" I swallowed harshly.

After he left, Samantha didn't talk to me. She didn't talk to herself either.

 **-May 4th, 1969-**

The next morning didn't come quick enough. I didn't like the darkness anymore.

When the nurse came to get us all up, Samantha was already gone, Nancy too. It was only Chelsea and I. We were directed to shower, change our clothes and meet in the cafeteria for breakfast.

The other girls had already been in the showers, and they left as soon as we showed up. I sighed, while taking my sweet time. The showers were rather warm today. At least that would be enjoyable.

"I think that kid likes you." Chelsea called from her stall. "I don't know, he just doesn't seem as empty , when you're around. I've never really seen him look at anyone before, and you two pretty much had a five minute staring contest."

"Michael? Is he really that strange?"

"Well, yeah, kinda. I mean, I guess he isn't too strange for a kid that freaked out and killed his sister. I'm sure any of us would shut down after that. He didn't even seem to have a motive."

I paused everything I was doing. "He killed his sister?"

"Oh shit, I probably shouldn't have told you. Since you're so young and all. But, hell, if you can survive a place like this, honestly, you doing better than most adults. The doctors and nurses here all seem loony." Chelsea laughed. "But, yeah, he killed his sister, I think five years ago, or something. Stabbed her several times, hasn't said a word since. Maybe she pissed him off? He thought that was how he should've reacted, and didn't mean to actualyl kill her. Maybe that's why he's so quiet."

A shadow passed by one the wall, before I heard Chelsea's shower curtain being pulled open.

"Do not talk about the Myers boy!" One of the nurses shouted. "He's an ill omen."

"Jesus Christ, you don't have to fucking scare me like that, Barbara." Chelsea protested.

"You two need to hurry up, you're almost out of time."

We finished up rather quick, drying ourselves and changing clothes. Chelsea was drying her hair, keeping her gaze locked on the nurse, until she walked out.

"Anyway. Now that mega-bitch isn't here. What do you think of Michael? There's been a couple people here approach him, but, no one has ever approached him multiple times."

My face turned red as I looked away. "I don't know, I mean he just looked lonely to me, and I don't like being alone, so I figured he wouldn't. And, I guess he's kinda cute. For an older boy anyway."

Chelsea smiled. "Hey now, there is nothing wrong with older guys, I think they're more fun."

Maybe these two girl's weren't as bad as I originally thought. Whenever Chelsea was taking her meds, she was pretty cool and whenever Samantha wasn't acting insane, she was nice too.

The two of us headed out, starving and ready to eat.

When we exited we were met by Dr. Loomis, chatting with the nurse in a hushed voice and Michael, not too far behind. He slowly turned his head, making eye contact with me. I quickly severed the gaze. I didn't want to look in his eyes. Not after what happened last time.

But, Chelsea nudged me forward, not knowing of my new found fear.

"Barb, I will take care of your concerns later. Right now, they aren't urgent, what is urgent is that these children get something to eat. "

I had no choice but to walk towards Michael. The cafeteria was passed him.

Maybe I was just freaking out? I had been through a lot and now for some reason I was buying into Samantha's delusions. Somehow Michael had stalked me through my dreams? How ridiculous was that? I deserved to be in this place, if I honestly believed that I was being haunted by a 12 year-old boy.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I felt a bit more confident about approaching Michael.

When I got close, Dr. Loomis was getting ready to see us all to the dining room. Michael's cold stare, still pierced through me. I didn't want to let it bother me. The poor kid killed his sister, and his parents died, now he was stuck in this place, alone, just like I was. He needed someone. He needed me.

On the way down the hall, I lagged behind the group. Trying to think things over. Loomis and Barb were still arguing, even as they walked. Which is why Loomis hadn't noticed When Michael stopped, waiting for me.

As I caught up, he didn't glance at me, but, instead, he offered his hand. I didn't want to suddenly confuse him by avoiding him like the other kids did. So, I accepted the offer. He deserved to have one friend, terrifying nightmare or not.

Dr. Loomis didn't seem to notice until he'd looked to his right, where Michael had been, and didn't see him. Panic became apparent in his eyes as he turned to look. He wasn't fond of Michael being out of his line of vision. His gaze landed on us and the dread disappeared, replaced by bewilderment.

The doctor continued to walk ahead as if nothing had happened.

Michael's hand was warm, and surprisingly rough for a 12 year-old. My ring finger brushed against a raised scar on his palm. It was dry, possibly a burn?

I wondered what could have caused it, he stabbed his sister, so it couldn't be from that, unless she burned him? Maybe I could ask Dr. Loomis at a later time, since Michael still wasn't speaking.

For some reason, the more I felt his scar, as he pulled me down the hall, the more the scar unnerved me. I had a feeling I knew what the scar was.

Hurrying my pace, I swung both of our hands up far enough to turn his arm, glancing down to examine the scar. The one I felt had just been an average burn scar.

Underneath that scar, on his wrist was another.

That scar, was that strange symbol.

Michael's grip tightened, squeezing my hand roughly and forcing our hands down. I didn't dare look at him, I felt his irritation. He didn't want me to see.

What was the significance of that sign?

 **To be continued..**


	3. Why?

**Chapter 3: Why?  
** **\- 6 Weeks before Halloween - September 1969 -**

* * *

 **T** he next few months were simple enough.

Ever since I'd woken from the coma I've been restless. Insomnia was my best friend. After about a month, the sleeping pills they'd given me stopped working, and after a couple weeks, I stopped complaining.

I was almost afraid to sleep after having that dream, seeing those marks, etched in blood and burned in to Michael's skin. Dr. Loomis didn't have any idea about the mark, he said it randomly appeared one day, and since Michael wouldn't talk about it, there was no answer for the burns.

There was nothing to do but listen to the other girls snore, and Samantha softly mumble to herself. I recalled a possible Amitriptyline-induced nightmare, where I'd been trapped in a room being engulfed in flames, with smoke so thick it left me gasping for air. I made a note to mention my, non-Michael-related dreams to Loomis later.

In early mornings, we had set tasks to complete: Making the bed, getting showers, getting dressed, before lining against the wall to be taken to the cafeteria.

Chelsea and I had gotten in trouble for ignoring the nurse, whenever Samantha and Nancy had been ready in time. I had a feeling Nancy had something to do with the two of us being left behind. Since neither of us recalled the others trying to wake us up.

The food here wasn't great, except for the last Friday in every month when Dr. Loomis and Dr. Hill would opt for bringing actual tasty food. One Friday Dr. Hill had gotten up early enough to bring in a homemade meal, though by the time we received it, it was a little cold. But, it was the thought that mattered.

Whenever we held group sessions Mary had started reminding everyone of the rules.

" _1\. Violence, threats and any other form of intimidation was not acceptable and staff, hospital security and police, if needed, will work together to get you under control and you may be criminally charged for violent or abusive behavior. We may also give you medicines in order to help you calm down, or use restraints."_

Though, this rule was rarely enforced by police, you were just thrown into solitary for a few days to calm down.

" _2\. Staff may search your belongings at any time without reason, in order to keep other patients and yourself safe from potentially harmful items.  
3\. Drugs and alcohol were at no time allowed in the facility."_

This was mainly for those of us who were allowed to leave, to spend the day with family. Everyone in the girls room had this privilege. But, only Nancy used it. I no longer had a family, Chelsea was disowned by her family, and Samantha's family believed it was enough for them to visit.

Other rules included leaving medicine at the nurses desk, bathroom items in the bathroom. She talked about the privileges that some of us had, and not to gloat to others, or the privileges would be taken away. Make sure your hospital band was worn at all times. Shower room was available from 7am to 6pm, you must be in your bedroom with the lights out at 10pm.

Keep the wards, bathrooms, and shower rooms cleaned at all times. Telephones were available until lights out, but could only be used for 10 minutes at a time. Respect everyone in the hospital at all times.

And, finally, no physical contact with other patients. Mary glared at me each time she mentioned this rule. She really didn't like Michael or myself, as the other patients were allowed to do whatever, Nancy spent a lot of her time flirting with James. The nurse wouldn't bat an eye at them, but, that one time I had held Michael's hand, she made it a big deal. Going so far as to complain to Dr. Carpenter.

After group, we each had our individual meeting. Mine was now with Dr. Hill, I'd asked Dr. Carpenter if I would be able to switch to her, since Dr. Wynn made me uncomfortable, ever since he gave Samantha and I that strange look. I hadn't told him why I felt uneasy, just that I felt as if I could progress with Dr. Hill and Dr. Loomis more than with Dr. Wynn.

The only question I was asked was if Dr. Wynn had tried hurting me or anything of the sort, which I replied no.

Dr. Hill had been great to work with, a lot of the time, I ended up tearful during our talks.

She always began with the standard routine of questions. Do I feel like hurting myself, how am I sleeping, how my mood was. She lowered the dose of amitriptyline and also put me on benzodiazepine.

Later a Code: Silver had been called. Anthony had somehow obtained a razor blade and was threatening staff before slitting his own wrist. A Code Team was called to sedate and restrain him in order to get him the care he needed.

Michael still hadn't been talking, but, I still sat next to him, as he stared out the window. I usually read a book. Currently I was reading "The Mouse And The Motorcycle" by, Beverly Cleary The nurse, Mary always gawked at us, scolding me if I got too close to him. She never spoke to Michael.

Whenever Anthony returned, he wasn't the same. He used to be easy to get along with, now he was mean. He teased and taunted everyone, even more than Nancy had, he'd even made her cry.

He started scaring all of us. Walking around in the middle of the night, sneaking into our room, causing Samantha to scream for the nurse, after waking to find him on top of her.

After that event, I started sitting closer to Michael. I felt safe around him. Even if he had brutally murdered me in my dream, I felt he wouldn't let anything happen to me. Anthony was two years older than him, but, Michael was stronger.

 **\- 7 Weeks Before Halloween -**

The date was September 13th, 1968, exactly six months after I was admitted to Smith's Grove. Six months, three weeks and two days after I'd lost my parents.  
Today just didn't feel right.

It was storming outside, the thunder clashing every other minute. The wind picked up, causing the staff to keep a close eye on the weather, in case they needed to transfer everyone to the shelter.

I was slow getting up and around, the other three girls, were already in the shower room, finishing their morning routines by the time I showed up. I didn't talk to any of them. Just silently washed my hair. Chelsea had stopped to ask if I was alright, and I gave her a weak smile and a nodd. We didn't pry into each other's mood's much. People would get upset if you asked.  
She'd probably mention my change of behavior to Dr. Hill, knowing that the nurses were useless.

Someone else came in, after I finished getting dressed. Assuming it was Mary, getting impatient, I sighed, standing and getting ready to turn the corner, heading out.

Two hands pushed against my shoulder's, knocking me to the ground.  
It was Anthony, brandishing a creepy grin and, another razor.

"Tony….. What are you doing?" I questioned, slowly standing, using the bench as support. What had Mary, Dan or any of the staff been doing that they hadn't noticed Anthony walking into the girls shower room…

"Well, your boyfriend isn't here to protect you." He switched the blade between his knuckles. "Perfect weather to spill some blood, don't you think?"

I backed up against the wall, wishing that I had chosen the more open bench so that I would've had a way out, by going around the privacy wall. But, I had chosen the corner bench, which had trapped me.

"You're going to get in trouble."

Anthony wagged his finger ' _no'_ . "First you, then me."

My eyes went wide. His plan was to kill the both of us? For what purpose?

"Sam got away, you won't."

There was no way around him unless I wanted to get cut, I could scream for help, but, there was no guarantee that anyone would hear me or pay any regard to some lunatic screaming. People yelled all the time here.

I only saw one way out, and that was trying to run around him. If I got caught, I would scream. Maybe I'd get lucky and a doctor would be walking by.

A step forward and he was already waiting to catch me. I pushed back on my leg, charging forward, making it passed him, by ducking under his arm. Anthony grabbed me by my hair, pulling me back and shoving me to the ground. At which, my mind went haywire and I envisioned him slitting my throat.

When he lunged towards me, I kicked him in the jaw, the razor slid across my leg, causing me to whine. I tried pushing myself to my feet again, so I could run, I just needed to make it down the hall.

I didn't get that chance. Anthony recovered faster than I had and grabbed my leg. At that moment, the only logical thing I could think of was screaming. I sucked in a deep breath, prepared to holler for help, my call was interrupted by another slash, my call for help became a pained shriek.

"Elaine?" A voice called, I recognized it as Samantha's.

She'd been his first target, he'd try to harm her again if she came in here. "Sam go get help!" I shouted urgently.

Samantha didn't listen, and rounded the corner, her eyes catching his own.

"Anthony….." She muttered, stepping back.

"If you scream or leave, she dies." The smirk on his face returned. "I'll sever her artery."

This time Samantha took a step forward. "You're going to regret this."

"Because you think you can see the future?"

Another step. "You don't understand what you're doing. He's going to be angry."

Anthony scoffed. "He's just a kid. He won't do shit."

Samantha charged him, he dropped my leg when her body hit his own, knocking him back. His arm swung, catching her neck with the razor. I was shocked, blood dripped down, staining her blue shirt.

As he fell back, his head smacked against one of the benches.

"I'm telling you, something is wrong with Elaine! He keeps staring at this door and won't move, go in and check on her, dammit!" It was Dr. Loomis' voice.

Her hand covered the wound, as she staggered backwards.

Mary came in, gasping at the sight. Hearing her fright Dr. Loomis followed her. There was blood on the wall from Sam, blood on the floor from me and blood on the bench from Anthony's head.

"Don't just stand there, call a Code: Silver and get the response team!" He yelled back at the nurse as he rushed over to us.

He moved Samantha's hand, replacing it with a cloth from his pocket. I could hear the nurse talking on the radio, calling the codes in. I struggled to my feet, before resting on the bench near me.

"Can you tell how deep your wounds are?" His voice surprisingly calm.

"I'm alright, I think, it just stings and hurts to use. He didn't cut me that deeply."

Loomis' eyes were locked on Anthony, hoping he wouldn't regain consciousness before the medical team and security arrived.

Anthony started to fidget, moving ever so slightly.

"Mary!" The doctor yelled, she rushed over. "Keep this cloth pressed to her, I need to get that razor from him!"

Mary did as he asked, yet, as always, she had a complaint.

"You're not security, he has a weapon Samuel."

"You want me to just let him hurt himself or any of you?"

She was silent, shaking, watching as Loomis reached for the razor, just for Anthony to regain awareness and dig the blade into the doctor's arm. The doctor's hand, squeezed the pressure points in Anthony's wrist, forcing him to drop the razor.

Soon after the medical team and security arrive, detaining Anthony, and helping Samantha, my wounds had been quickly bandaged since they weren't in as bad condition. I was walked out to the main hall by Mary.

As Loomis said, Michael was standing about halfway down the hall, staring at the door. A smile stretched across my face, with his creepy, stalkerish ways, he saved me.

Mary had gotten distracted by a gasp that Samantha had let out, turning to assist the medical team. So, I managed to wiggle free from her grasp, heading towards Michael. When I reached him, we both locked eyes. Something we hadn't done in quite a while.

Reaching out I took his hand, he squeezed mine tight, not hard enough to hurt.

My heart raced, for a different reason this time. I was nervous, a good nervous. A warmth spread through my body. Slowly, I inched closer to him, before letting go of his hand, and wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head against his shoulder. He let out a small gasp. Michael hadn't been expecting my advancements. One of his hands rested on the small of my back. I don't think he was sure on how he should react to the scenario.

He was pretty stiff, still as emotionless as ever. However, he didn't seem uncomfortable.

The doctors allowed us to be, and have our moment. Loomis was probably excited, due to the fact this was the most Michael had interacted in quite some time.

Breathing in deeply, I loosened my grip from around Michael, I wasn't in much shock anymore. The incident was over. He applied more weight on my back, when I shifted position. Did he not want me to leave?

"Thank you, Michael." I whispered, barely audible.

Down the hall I could hear the doctors speaking. Wynn had arrived. He asked Loomis what had happened, and Loomis replied that I should be the one to tell that story. He kept Wynn from approaching us, telling him that I would speak when I was ready.

I'd have to thank him later.

Anthony had successfully been detained and reportedly calmed down. Samantha's condition wasn't life threatening, however, she'd be in the infirmary for a few days and would lose the ability to speak for a month or so.

Surprisingly, Mary hadn't chewed me out for breaking the covenant 'No touching' rule.

I'd been taken to the infirmary myself, so the doctors could make sure that my wounds hadn't been worse than originally thought. The cut's hadn't been deep, just enough to draw a decent amount of blood. After re-wrapping the wounds, I was sent to an office where the doctors were waiting to interview me.

I wasn't very excited about Wynn being one of the doctors.

Dr. Hill was the closest to me, sitting in the chair directly next to me. Loomis had been standing on the other side of her, and Wynn was sitting at his desk.

"Have you done anything to provoke, Anthony?" Dr. Loomis asked, a standard first question that was always asked in these situations.

"I don't think so, I haven't really talked to him. Or even really looked at him."

Dr. Hill's voice was always soft when she spoke to me. "What happened when he entered the room? Were you alone?"

"Yeah, I was." I didn't want to mention the fact that he seemed to have some kind of grudge against Michael. "He came in and told me he was going to kill me, before killing himself."

"When did Samantha come into the picture?" Another question from Loomis.

"I guess she was coming back into the room to check on me… Anthony told her to stay quiet, or he'd kill me. She got close to him and rushed him. After that, you showed up."

Wynn folded his hands on his desk, clearing his throat. "Do you think that your relationship with Michael could have been his motive? Maybe, he was jealous?"

I didn't like that question. Why would Michael even be a subject in something like this? He'd just seen Anthony enter the room and alerted the doctor. That was all. Unless, Wynn somehow knew what Anthony's motive was.

"I don't know, I've never seen the two interact. And as I said, I've never talked to him."

"This isn't the first time Anthony has attacked someone, Terrance. He's attacked Samantha twice now, and she isn't connected to Michael." Loomis chimed in.

But, Loomis didn't know.

There had been some connection between Samantha and Michael. She knew things about him that no one else did. I still wasn't sure what she meant, but, I recalled her telling me that Michael was the obsession. Not that he was obsessed with someone. She also told me, he wasn't the danger. Maybe she was referring to what happened earlier?

Anthony had mentioned that he was attacking because Michael was not around. Michael wasn't the danger, he was the obsession. Maybe, Anthony was obsessed with him? That's why she'd come to check on me. She knew he was there.

She also mentioned the symbol, telling me I had it too.

I didn't.

The rest of the day had pretty much been spent talking with the doctors, they were trying to figure out what had happened. I'd pretty had to describe what the week had been like, than what the month had been like. How Samantha was behaving, if I saw her taunting Anthony, or if I saw Anthony taunting her. If there was any kind of harsh behavior between anyone in the juvenile section.

I didn't get breakfast until everyone else was getting lunch. Dr. Hill had made sure I got extra.

There hadn't really been much free time that day. Nancy was out in the main room with James, and Mason. Dr. Loomis thought it would be best to keep Michael away from the others for a little, since Wynn had been so suspicious. Roger had stayed in the boys' ward, as Chelsea and I stayed in the girls ward.

Since I didn't offer much information, everyone had to be interrogated. Anthony's belongings were searched through, hoping to piece the events together.

The day was a mess.

Chelsea seemed rather irritated when she returned. Surprisingly, she sat next to me on the bed. Letting out a deep sigh.

"Nancy is lying through her teeth about you and Michael." Her expression showed concern, worry even. "I don't think the doctors believe her, but, still, she's being such a bitch!"

I put down the book I was reading, planning to focus on the problem. Mainly since whatever she was saying could cause Michael and I to be separated. After all the progress I'd made trying to be his friend, I didn't want to lose it.

"What did she say?" I tried to keep my tone rather calm.

Chelsea hesitated. "Well, I only caught the end of it… Basically, she said that you were taunting him with your relationship. Apparently he tried to be friends with Michael once, and like the rest of us, was only met with a blank stare devoid of all emotion. She said that he was jealous because with you, Michael showing emotion around only you, and that when he came to talk to you about it, you told him he wasn't worth Michael's or your attention."

She laid back on the mattress now, closing her eyes. "I know you didn't do anything like that. Personally, it sounds like something she'd say to him. And I know Michael wouldn't taunt him. Other than the fact that he doesn't speak, and the fact he has that creepy stare, he seems like a sweet kid."

"Why would she even do that? There's nothing to gain from it."

"Nancy's an idiot. She heard the rumor of Michael killing those other kids and ever since, she teases him here and there, hoping to invoke a response. She wants him to tell her off. Not realizing that if Michael did kill those kids, he'd probably just kill her too."

Changing positions, I moved to the middle of the bed, sitting cross legged. "Do you think Michael killed them?"

Chelsea opened an eye to look at me. "Honestly… Yeah. I do. But, I also think that they probably deserved it. If he killed at random, all of us would be dead, wouldn't we? He has to have some kind of motive that's only triggered by certain responses."

Sitting up once again, she looked at the door, making sure no one was coming.

"Adrian apparently ate an entire birthday cake that was meant for him. Day or two later, he gets burned in the shower. There's definitely more than a coincidence there. I think the doctors see that too. Blair, he acted so similar to Michael… He even had killed his older sister. Maybe Michael felt as if he were competition?"

Around an hour later, Chelsea and I had been playing a card game on my bed when Nancy returned to the room. We both glared at her. She smiled smugly.

"That's what you get for telling me that I was going to die." She scoffed, headed towards her own bed. "I can feed them even more stories if you like."

"Oh? Could you? Well, I'd like to hear some more." The new voice belonged to Dr. Hill.

She originally planned to come speak to me before bed, after the lies that Nancy had told her. However, hearing Nancy's confession result in her grabbed the girl by the wrist and dragging her out of the room.

We lined up at the nurses station to take our night medicine a little later. Neither Dr. Hill nor Nancy returned.

Nancy earned herself another night in solitary.

Michael invaded my dreams, again that night.

I'd been lying on a bed, the spread was different shades of blue, identifying it as the bed that was in the room where he previously killed me. I rolled over to my left side, examining the sting resonating from my arm.

There was blood on my wrist, illuminated by the flickering light. Examining the wound closer, I now had that rune scratched into my skin. This was the hand I always held Michael's scarred hand with.

Sitting up, gasping at the reveal, I noticed there was some changes in decor. The door connecting the two room's had vanished and Jack-O-Lanterns sat on the shelves and the desk. Each face was the same, the mouth carved into a frown and the eyes looked angry. They reminded me of Michael's glare.

Speaking of the devil, Michael was standing in the only exit, staring at me as the lanterns were.

Thankfully, the mask and knife were both missing.

"Hey, Michael…" I responded, nonchalantly, letting him know that I wasn't ignoring his presence. After how many times he'd stabbed me in the last dream, I didn't want to go through that again.

Standing, I made my way over to him. Curious as to what he had planned for me this time.

There was a new symbol burned into the carpet, where I'd been killed. Upon crossing the symbol, I re-lived the pain. The plunge of the knife, the dull throbbing, all of it. The emergence of the sudden affliction knocked my breath from me and dropped me to my knees.

Thankfully the pain only lasted a few minutes. I made a mental note to avoid touching those marks.

Michael was gone. There was no reason for me to stay in the room so I headed towards the hall. Downstairs still didn't exist. An arrow pointed up to the attic, there were more flickering lights, I could only assume he was there.

Passing the door, I originally entered, the name "Judith" was now etched into it, written within the symbol. I paused for a moment, reaching for the doorknob, it was locked. He didn't want me inside.

Continuing down the hall, I started up the stairs, leading to the attic. A hand clamped over my mouth, pulling me backwards. It was impossible to pull the grip away. Gasping and squirming was the only tactic I could manage.

The house faded, leaving me in darkness, I could still feel his hand tightly gripped over my mouth, though now I was able to catch my breath and with a jerk, I forced myself awake.

Michael loomed over my bedside, his hand, keeping my shocked screech from alerting the nurses or waking the Chelsea. As soon as he was sure I wasn't going to scream, he let me go.

"What's wrong?" I kept my voice, low, knowing we'd both be in trouble if someone caught him in here. Especially, after everything that had happened and all the lies Nancy spread.

He offered his hand, I was bewildered. Did he want me to follow him?

"Michael, we're going to get in trouble." I warned.

This time he reached for my hand, grabbing it and pulling me out of bed. His hand was sticky, and it looked like his clothes were stained. "Hey, are you alright?" Michael didn't answer, he just pulled me towards the door. His grip was tight, there was no wiggling free.

When we reached the doorway, he stopped, not looking left or right, just waiting. Amanda, one of the night nurses passed by the room. When she was out of sight, he tugged on my hand, pulling me down the corridors, easily avoiding detection from any of the staff. Even one of the men had looked directly at him, but, hadn't stopped us.

I struggled to keep up with him. His pace was quick, and he stopped just as quickly, causing me to bump into him a couple times, mumbling 'sorry', each time I had. A little further through the building and I realized we were headed towards the infirmary, where both Samantha and Anthony were being kept.

Instead of heading inside, we passed the rooms, walking towards the stairs, leading down into the basement. The basement doors were always locked, I wondered if Michael had a key? Had he stolen it from the doctors, maybe one of the maintenance men, or sanitation?

We rounded the corner reaching the top of the stairs, Michael squeezed my hand, turning my focus to him, in the dim light from the window, I could finally see that his clothes had been stained. The stain was dark, and I soon knew why.

He pulled his hand free from my own, brushing his fingers against my cheek, forcing my head to turn towards the door.

Anthony had been hung over the top railing. His clothes also stained darkly.

I wasn't sure how to react. If I reacted wrong, Michael might decide I was next. But, the dread inside was overwhelming me. Michael had killed someone, and it seemed as if he'd done it for me.

"Michael…."

Maybe pursuing a friendship with him wasn't in my best interest. I thought maybe the dreams were just dreams, but after actually seeing his handiwork. I wanted to get away from him.

"Michael…" I repeated his name, seemingly not able to think of any other words.

He took my hand again, squeezing it tight.

My heart was racing, I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down, but, nothing was working. "You…. you did this, didn't you?"

"Yes."

I jumped, not expecting an actual response.

"Because he hurt me?" I asked, looking at him again, hoping to see something besides the emotionless expression on his face. There was no change. He didn't respond again, pulling on my arm as he began to lead me away, back towards the girls ward.

I was quiet the walk back. There was no way I'd be able to tell the doctors that I knew Michael killed him, that he confessed it to me. No one would believe that he actually spoke. And, there would be no one to stop him from reaching me.

As soon as we reached the door, he turned to head the other way. Presumably going back to the boys' ward. I grabbed his arm, he stopped, but, didn't look back at me.

"I suppose, I should thank you…"

He yanked his arm free, starting to walk again, I wasn't sure what came over me, but, I had the sudden urge to call out to him once more.

"Michael, don't get caught."

 **To be continued…** .


	4. Thorn

**Chapter 4: Thorn  
\- 6 weeks before Halloween - September 14th, 1969 -**

* * *

 **E** arly in the morning, before the sun rose, I was woken by the sound of staff running through the hall. Another code had been called. This time it was a Code: Black, which was called whenever there was a personal threat, staff threat, severe weather alert, or a death.

I knew the code had been called over someone discovering Anthony's body. Either maintenance headed down to the basement or one of the nurses realizing that he was missing.

Chelsea had been woken up to, I heard her groan, hearing all the commotion in the halls.

Laying in bed, facing the wall, I tried to ignore everything that was happening. There's no way I could say a word. If they believed me, Michael would make me his next target. If they didn't believe me, I was pretty sure I'd still be his next target.

The worst part of it all, was that there was a piece of me that believed he deserved it. He attacked Samantha in her sleep, and again went she moved to defend me. And he'd even hurt me, because of some grudge he had with Michael?

It was just easier, all around to dispose of him, rather than risking him repeating his past events.

I hated myself for that thought.

Ninety minutes later and everything had started to calm down. Anthony's death had been reported as a suicide. The blood dripping on his clothes and the floor was clarified to be from the lacerations from the cord around his neck. I wasn't sure who'd examined the scene and written the report out, but, there had been much more of a story to tell aside from the fact he'd been hung from the railing.

Two of staff members were talking about the mysterious bruising on his skin. The police and the doctor that examined him didn't have anything to say about them. Even though they hadn't been written in report when he was emitted to the infirmary the night prior.

One of the nurses seemed a little scared, mentioning that the reports had been changed, and said that during his transport to the room, he'd started a fight, violently lashing out at his transporter, which the man had to defend himself.

Anthony was sedated with drugs, and strapped to a gurney. I watched everything happen.

The doctors didn't mention anything about what had happened. Word had spread enough, every patient knew about it. We talked among ourselves. Everyone seemed to believe that he took his own life.

Everyone, but, Dr. Loomis.

He'd been keeping a closer eye on Michael today. During breakfast, during group therapy, during lunch. He went so far as to cancel each individual therapy that had been scheduled that day, making Dr. Wynn and Dr. Grannel scramble around, trying to take care of everyone.

Grannel normally worked with the adult patients, but, due to everything that had been happening in the Juvenile ward, she was temporarily assigned to help out.

Dr. Wynn hadn't been around, apparently, he decided to return to his administrative duties, as the work had recently been piling up and Dr. Rogers, along with Dr. Carpenter weren't able to keep up.

I was thankful to not be seeing Dr. Wynn for a while.

 **\- September 1969 -**

Michael hadn't come out to the main room today. Dr. Loomis continued to shadow him, standing outside of the boys' ward, watching him. I didn't blame Michael for staying isolated. If he acted disinterested, maybe Loomis would leave him alone.

And, he had. During dinner, Loomis was nowhere to be seen. Michael hadn't made eye contact with anyone. He didn't look up from his plate. Slowly, he was falling back into his catatonic state.

Was that just how he reacted after murdering someone? Going completely silent, claiming to be mentally unstable in order to avoid severe charges? Was he manipulating those around him into pitying him because he's a child?

Of course he was.  
How else would one child get away with so much?

Murdering his sister, supposedly two other boys and now a third one? He was talented at keeping the suspicion away from him. No one, staff wise, aside from Loomis seemed to suspect a thing.

Towards the end of dinner, Michael had finally had some semblance of a response. Hearing Loomis' voice, his head slowly lifted, glaring in the direction of where he'd heard him.

The scowl he'd given him was far from the normal blank stare he had on his face. Eyebrows pulled down together, his eyes wide, full of rage, jaw clenched. His hand gripped the edge of the table tightly. There was nothing more than pure hatred for Loomis.

This menacing look didn't last long, before any of the doctors could notice, he was back to his normal vacant self.

Michael's stare frightened me.

Again, even though Loomis was no longer near him, Michael hadn't come out of his room.

"What's wrong?" Chelsea asked, sitting next to me, in the space where Michael usually sat. "Did you two get into a fight or something?" She used a joking tone, hoping to cheer me up.

"I don't know…. Maybe?"

She frowned. "What exactly did you two do last night?"

Lowering my head, I wasn't sure exactly what to tell her, if I could even trust her. "He-he just wanted to make sure I was alright." I lied, crossing my arms.

A confused look spread across her face. "What, did he like, talk to you, or something?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. I wish he would have. That would have made everything so much easier to understand…"

She scooted closer, putting her arm around me. "Hey, don't get too down. It's hard to communicate with someone who doesn't speak. If he's angry, or if you're angry, I'm sure things will be better tomorrow. I mean, you are the only person he's ever really taken an interest in."

"Yeah.. I guess you're right."

"Sorry to interrupt ladies." Dr. Loomis called, heading over towards us. "But, may I speak to you Elaine?"

It was only a matter of time before he came to interrogate me. I was surprised he waited so long, with everything that transpired, I should have been the prime suspect, when it came to Anthony's death. However, it was probably hard to believe that a nine year-old could be capable of committing such a crime, let alone a female nine year-old.

I agreed and walked with Dr. Loomis to his room.

He closed the door behind us, walking over to one of the patient chairs, rather than the chair behind his desk. I took the opposite seat.

"It is imperative that you be honest with me, do you understand?" The look on his face was fierce, determined.

"I have no reason to lie." I replied, hoping to appear unbothered.

"Do you feel safe around Michael?" I should have known it was actually about him. There was no room for hesitation, he'd easily figure me out if I waited even a second.

"Of course." I answered effortlessly.

He thought for a second, crossing his arms. Probably trying to figure out if he could, believe me or not. "Has he said a word to you? Anything at all?"

Again, I need to be quick with my answer. "N-no.. no, he hasn't." I tried to make my voice sound a little disappointed. Before he could ask another question, I interrupted him. "Is Michael alright?"

There was a slight smile playing on his lips. "Yes, he is fine. Just, a bit more reserved than he's been the past week. With everything that's been happening, I was worried maybe it was starting to have a negative effect on him."

He was lying. I knew he suspected that Michael had something to do with Anthony's death. It had been so awfully covered up. "Maybe he's just getting sick or something?" I suggested, wondering if I could lead him off Michael's trail. Loomis laughed. "I doubt it. As long as he's been here, I've never seen him ill. He has an amazing immune system."

Eventually, Dr. Loomis started asking about my own progress, keeping me a bit longer, to catch up on what I'd made improvements in. I told him about my sleeping issues, and how I've been having nightmares, I didn't give him any details, convincing him I only remembered the panic when I woke up.

He made a note to mention my problems to Dr. Hill, so she could adjust my night medication. For tonight, I was sent to bed without any meds, to see if that would allow me to get a decent night's rest.

 **\- 1 Month before Halloween - September -**

Two more weeks passed. The 29th of September. Still nothing from Michael. He'd refused to leave his room, I rarely even saw him leave his room for meals. The staff had started bringing his meals to him.

I should have felt happy, now that I didn't have a killer in my shadows. But, I wasn't. I was afraid.

Afraid that I was losing him. Any form of kindness that he may have left. That the next time we met, he'd be that being full of rage I saw across the table. The being that had brutally murdered me in his sleep.

Soon, I started falling into the same pattern. Refusing to leave the ward. Having my meals delivered. My medicine had been increased and I was frequently checked on. The staff believing I may be of harm to myself.

 **\- 2 Weeks before Halloween - October 13th, 1969 -**

More time passed. No sight of Michael. Now, I was getting angry. He wasn't going to kill someone for me, and then vanish from my life. If he wanted me to keep his secret, he was going to talk to me.

I went directly to Dr. Loomis, asking to talk to Michael. He advised me, that this time of year wasn't the best time for him. I persisted. It took three hours in total to convince him. It wasn't just for myself, but, also for him.

Loomis was still nervous as we walked in. "Michael, Elaine would like to see you, may we come in?"

No response. Not even a glance.

The doctor approached him. "Michael?" placing his hand on Michael's shoulder. Fear struck me. I was afraid Michael would choose now to strike. He hated Loomis. I remembered the rage.

Nothing happened.

He allowed me to come into the room, and approach Michael, surprised that I simply stood next to him, rather than speaking. We communicated in silence. Simple gestures showed far more than words could say. If he saw that after everything, I was still there for him, maybe he'd come around.

"Samuel! I'd like to have a word with you." A voice rang out from behind. It was Wynn.

"Did something happen?"

"No. Nothing of the sort." I heard his footsteps stop just short of Michael and I. "Elaine can stay here, it'll only take a couple minutes. "

Loomis didn't sound pleased by the suggestion. "That's against regulation, Terence."

Wynn sighed. "Well, I'm allowing it for the moment. Please, come with me." Rather than argue in front of us, Loomis reluctantly left the two of us alone. I waited until they were out of earshot before I made my move.

Moving closer to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright?" His hands tightened around the arm's of the chair. "Michael!" I called, raising my voice. Why was he being so stubborn?

"Michael…"

My arm dropped, I was almost ready to give up. If Loomis couldn't get through to him, how could I? I needed to try. After all, he'd spoken to me, even if it was just a word, that was one word more than anyone else has heard in years.

I moved in front of him, his gaze immediately dropped. "Hey… You know that I'm not angry, right? I'm worried." Laying my hand over his own, I felt a twitch in response. He wasn't unaware.

Slowly, I raised my hand, hoping to touch his cheek, lift his face so that I could look into his eyes, see something beyond his blank stare. As soon as my fingers touched his cheek, he jerked, pushing me back against the window, his right hand around my throat.

The sudden lack of oxygen, left me feeling faint. Anxiety spiking, as my mind panicked, searching for a way to get away.

His squeeze seemed like more of a warning, the grip still hurt and took away my breath, but, if he was strong enough to throw Anthony, a kid older than himself, over a railing, I knew he could easily apply more pressure.

With every gasp, fear started to manifest. What if he didn't let go? Maybe, I'd be his next victim… I pushed my hand against his chest, clenching the fabric of his shirt. His grip loosened, before he tossed me to the side casually.

I fell to my knees, coughing, gasping, trying to catch my breath. Tears stung the brims of my eyes, not because of my physical wounds, but, because he'd actually harmed me, in reality. My nightmares were now more than bad dreams.

Managing to pull a deep breath in, I struggled to my feet, rubbing where his hand had just been. "What's wrong with you, Michael?" I questioned, not bothering to look back. There was no way I could handle seeing that emotionless stare right now.

But, I had to look. I wanted to know if he was looking at me the same way he'd looked at Dr. Loomis, if he were, maybe I could get a head start, alert the doctors of what he'd done, maybe have him transferred, or even myself.

I was frozen, the vision of him suddenly holding a knife and wearing that mask popped into my head.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, presumably the doctors, I had to act fast. All I took was a quick peak, letting out a sigh of relief when I didn't see the pure hatred in his eyes. His gaze was still fierce, warning me not to get close, that next time, he wouldn't halt his attack.

Wiping my eyes, I began heading towards the door, I could hear him move, sitting back in the chair. This too, would be kept just between the two of us.

I attempted to rush past the doctors without them noticing, didn't work, Loomis instantly reached out grabbing my arm. "Elaine, what's wrong?"

I pulled against him trying to get away, but, that only made his grip tighter.

"I'm fine!" I exclaimed, refusing to let him look at me.

"Samuel, take her back to her room, I'll check on Michael." Wynn directed, stepping into the ward.

Dr. Loomis, started walking forward, dragging me alongside him. "I can see that you're upset, is it because of Michael? Because he won't acknowledge you? You see, he doesn't respond anyone here, in fact, we were all surprised when he even looked in your direction. You caught him on a good day. He rarely leaves his room, it took a while to coax him out. With you around, he's been surprisingly active. But, as we were all dreading, he's retreated back to himself. Because each day nears closer to the anniversary."

"Anniversary?"

"Halloween, the night he killed his older sister. I'm sure you've been told by the others?" Loomis glanced down at me with a raised brow. "If you give him a month, I'm sure he'll come around again, he's just traumatized. I was told their siblingship wasn't the best, so, her death was most likely the result of an argument and Michael didn't understand what he did. It was Halloween after all, he probably saw it in a movie, children like yourself are very impressionable."

I didn't agree that Michael was just a traumatized child. Not after seeing what had happened to Anthony. I believed fully that he was aware of what he was doing and that he didn't care. His older sister, and three roommates, maybe more.

Dr. Loomis continued speaking, seeing that I was still a bit shaken up. "In fact, I think you might remind him of his younger sister. She tragically passed away alongside his parents, four years ago. She and his mother visited a few times, but half a year before the tragedy, they stopped coming. They seemed to get along quite well."

We finally reached the girl's ward, Loomis got down on one knee. "Just give Michael a little time. Everything will be alright."

 **\- Two Days before Halloween - October 29th, 1969 -**

Samantha had finally returned to the ward, and Nancy was allowed back too. Nancy started keeping to herself, aside from the two boys she'd been hanging around.

Sam was worried about me, because of her injuries, she still had difficulties speaking, however, she made up for it, by grabbing my wrist, taking a marker and drawing that strange rune across it. I felt like this was a warning, but, with no words being exchanged between the two of us, I just shrugged it off.

Michael still hadn't left his room. I was getting better, knowing that it was probably just a phase. I'd still wave, and offer a smile, the rare times he actually left. Maybe, in a week or so, he'd be better, we could be friends again, or at least we could go back to whatever he saw me as. A sister, or whatever.

I'd was given my pill's, and sent to bed, around 10:00pm as normal. I was feeling pretty good about the next few days.  
Less than a week before I planned on talking to Michael again. Or at least attempting.

Drifting to sleep, my heart aflutter, and full of excitement for soon being able to see him again. I didn't understand the attraction I held for him. He'd been the first person I really approached, the first I had formed a somewhat bond with. And, I was the only one he allowed to do so. There was more to our relationship, than two insane kids at a mental hospital. We'd definitely last beyond this place. We'd escape together, whether he remained silent or not.

My mind drifted to sleep rather easily.

"Sedate her, I don't want her waking up, like the other one." A male voice called out in a demanding tone. Several pairs of footsteps entered the room.

"Yes, sir." This voice was female.

There was a slight prick on the left side of my neck. The skin around the area became cool, masking the sting.

My eyes shot open, frantically glancing around the room, there were two men, and one woman. My eyelids grew heavy, almost immediately, I couldn't stay awake any longer, falling within darkness once again. Convincing myself the experience had been nothing but a bad dream.

Hour passed, maybe only minutes, before I heard the voice speaking once more. They were a bit clearer, I started recognize a couple. But, being in a half-dazed state, their names, weren't coming to mind.

"Make sure the straps are tight, while your at it. I don't want to play hide-and-seek with a patient, again." The voice was harsh, but, spoke with intelligence.

A heat built-up in my head. "Wake up!" This voice was disembodied, echoing, blurred between male and female.

Again, I jerked awake, desperately trying to examine my surroundings. A red hue illuminated the room, I couldn't see much else, my vision was blurred. There was a table, just to my left, objects scattered across. There were a few other objects, furniture-wise, that I could define, a chair, cabinets, and, what looked to be a gurney.

"Well, it seems you chose right. She's a fighter. A perfect match." The female, announced. She leaned in front of me, flashing a light in my eyes. Her was down, long, and possibly brownish in color. She, too, was familiar, but, I _still_ couldn't place a name. "Should I give her another dose?"

Heavy footsteps approached. "Absolutely not. I want her to be afraid to speak a word of this. The girl's already seen too much. She can suffer." He was wearing a lab coat. This was someone from the hospital. Someone I trusted.

'Fall back to sleep', I begged myself, whatever was happening, I didn't want to be awake. If I could only pretend that I hadn't realized the direness of the situation, maybe I wouldn't have to suffer.

"Wake up!" The same distorted voice as before, waking once again.

This time, my vision was clearer, and the lighting, brighter, instead of the red hue, it was now a dull golden A woman sat at a desk in front of me, three vials of dark liquid, placed next to her.

She turned, giving me a clear look at her face. It was Dawn, Dr. Wynn's secretary, one of the first women I'd spoken to upon arriving at Smith's Grove. A gasp left my lips, drawing her attention.

"Elaine is awake again." Her voice cold, completely different from the warmth I'd felt before.

Dr. Wynn stepped into the room, putting on a pair of rubber gloves. "Good."

My instincts told me to run, only to remember, I'd been strapped to the chair, incapable of movement. The next breath I took in was shaky, I was afraid, but, my heart wasn't racing. Had it been the sedative?

"What is this place?" I asked, still hoping to wiggle an arm free.

"This place, is none of your business. We'll only be here a few more minutes." Wynn replied, walking to the table where Dawn had been seconds earlier. "We've been waiting for someone like you. Someone able to catch Michael's attention. Your friend, Samantha was the first, and a failure. They didn't have a bond, like the one you developed. Now, I'm afraid, she's permanently fucked in the head. We didn't dare to repeat the ritual with the other girls. Then, you came around."

I couldn't wiggle free, nor was there wasn't enough room to pull my hand through. "What did you do to her?" I wanted to keep him talking, to possibly make an escape, due to a careless mistake on his behalf.

"We gave Michael a gift. In exchange for that gift, his job was to take the lives of his family. He failed, and one still lives. His little sister. You are our backup plan. Possibly, because of your age difference, he actually took an interest in you, tried to hide his affection for you. But, he failed at that too." His explanation was vague, I needed more information.

He picked up one of the vials, walking over to me. "Now, if he fails to kill his sister, and she continues their bloodline, you'll help further his bloodline, to a newer generation. The two of you will be connected, unable to resist. No matter how much you fight it." His answers still too vague.

Wynn was absolutely insane, there was no other way to describe it.

"Continue the bloodline? You can't force something like that on someone!" I hissed in protest.

Wynn smirked, placing his hand on my cheek. "Yet, here am I, forcing your destiny on you." Turning my head quickly, sinking my teeth into his thumb, hard enough to draw blood. He withdrew his hand, striking me, there'd probably have a bruise in the morning.

"Dawn! Keep the bitch restrained!"

The woman walked behind me, placing her hands on my head, one around my chin, the other on top of my skull. Wynn's grip replaced her own on my jaw, her hands moving to either side of my head.

"What is that!?" I managed to get the words out.

"This, oh, you'll enjoy this! It's Michael's blood. I had some extra drawn a few weeks ago, no one seemed to notice. Lucky for you."

I didn't want anything to do with any of this, I wanted to wake up, have this be nothing but a bad dream. However, I knew this was real, and resisted as much as I could. But, what could an eleven year-old child do against a grown man?

He pried my mouth open, using the other to pour the vial in.  
The taste was horrid, irony, way too salty, and there was an added sourness. My body rejected it immediately. Wynn groaned in detest.

"No need to worry, there is more where that came from." He took a cloth, wiping my mouth clean, reaching for another vial, forcing my jaw open again, pouring the blood in and forcing my jaw closed, pinching my nose shut, I forcefully swallowed the liquid, gagging as soon as he let me go. I felt violated, and needed to reject it from my system.

"The more you reject his blood, the more I will pour down your throat. Understand?" He warned, probably seeing the look on my face.

Choking down my vomit, I nodded. I didn't want to keep going through that experience.

There was another sting in my neck, sending me back into the darkness, presumably, forcing my stomach to settle. This time, I didn't mind.

"Once more…" The same distorted voice rang out once more.

Eyes slowly fluttered open, again, still strapped to the chair. "You are just unfortunate." Wynn replied, holding a steel rod over an open fire to the left of me, staring my way, waiting for the flames to heat up. "You'll have to suffer through this too."

My left palm was now facing upwards, my pulse finally quickened. I knew what he was preparing.

"As you may have guessed, you will also be branded with our mark, like Michael and Samantha." He lifted the rod, walking towards me.

"Michael's going to kill you!" I blindly threatened him, having no other ideas to keep him away me. He only laughed, taking my hand in his own, keeping my arm straight. "The other girl threatened me as well." That same devious smirk reappeared. "Here I stand." He was mocking me.

The metal pressed against my skin, a searing sensation, the pain caused me to squeeze the doctor's hand, crying out. The rod was removed a second later, seeing the new wound only seemed to make the pain worse. And slowly it faded, as my nerves were destroyed.

"Look on the bright side, now you match. Two orphans, marked with Thorn."

Darkness overtook me again.

 **\- One Day before Halloween - October 30th, 1969 -**

"Elaine? Dear god, you poor girl!"

My eyes opened, I was back in the ward. A smile stretched across my face, maybe it had been a dream?

"Doctor Loomis, I need your assistance!" Mary called from the hall.

I tried moving, my limbs were free. Raising my hand, I saw the new mark. It wasn't a dream… My arm dropped, defeated. Samantha moved next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder to get my attention, before mouthing the words, "Don't tell them."

"Sam, move away, please!" Dr. Loomis demanded, making his way to my side. "Can you hear me, Elaine?"

"Y-yeah." My voice was weak.

"How do you feel?" He placed his hand on my forehead. "She doesn't have a fever.."

I took in a breath, my mouth retained that putrid taste. "Horrible."

Dr. Loomis had determined that I wasn't sick, it had to be a reaction to my medication. He went to call the night nurse, asking what I'd been given. Determined that she'd messed something up.

Mary, however, stayed, helping me to my feet, cleaning all the vomit off the bedspread and myself.

Dr. Wynn had just dropped me back on my bed. No use in trying to cover his trail. He'd been right, I was too afraid to say a word.

I showered and changed clothes, Mary had seen my scar, but hadn't said a word about it.

My stomach churned at her lack of response.

Loomis returned, meeting up with us in the hall. His face red. "Someone updated her medication list without proper authority. She took conflicting pills." He looked me up and down, grabbing my right hand and pulling me away from the nurse.

We stopped a few hall's away. "What did you do?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"The scar on your wrist, Elaine!" He rose his voice. "What did you do!?"

"I-I didn't!" I protested.

The look on his face told me that he didn't believe a word I said. "Who did? Was it Michael?"

"No.."

"Then who!" He knelt down, taking me by my shoulders. "You can talk, tell me who is hurting you children!"

Dr. Wynn rounded the corner. Loomis didn't notice.

"I don't know. It was dark…"

"You don't know?" He sighed. "You don't know, or, you won't tell me? Are you afraid?" His eyes were sympathetic, he wanted to help, but, there was no way he'd believe me. He and Wynn were close.

I swallowed hard. "I am afraid… But, I don't know."

Wynn Smiled as he walked by. Loomis was still none the wiser.

Michael was out in the main room today, sitting in his normal spot. I didn't waste any time in joining him. Though, I didn't look at him, only staring out the window. Distressed. Similar to his own blank stare.

I wasn't sure how to look at the boy, whose blood I'd been fed.

Michael turned his head, looking at me, grabbing my newly bandaged arm and, pulling me closer to him. His arm was around my shoulder, the other holding my hand.

He'd been trying to protect me and I was too blind to see it. He tried to distance himself, to keep him from choosing me. But, as Wynn stated, it was hard for us to resist one another.

I was quiet, hunched over, feeling utterly helpless. My gaze fixated out the window, examining the grass and foliage outside. The sun, shining brightly, I didn't understand how, with everything I'd been through the evening before. Everyone was able to move on, as if terrible things didn't happen.

My throat tightened, as I sharply breathed in, feeling that twist in my gut. I was torn in half, one side wanting to confess everything, the other wanting to hide, hoping he'd just leave me alone, now that I was forever scarred with this mark. I couldn't shut down like Michael did.

All the pent-up hysteria let itself out in a single cry. "I don't know what they did to me, Michael."

 **To be continued….**


	5. Stalking in the dark

_**Chapter 5: Stalking in the dark  
**_ _ **\- One Day before Halloween - October 30th, 1969 -**_

 **"D** o you see that?" Dr. Loomis' voice carried through the room. "He's showing compassion."

"Hmm, maybe he isn't so hopeless after all. Maybe you're actually getting through to him." The second voice was Dr. Hill's.

I rested in Michael's embrace, he was warm, unnaturally calming. His thumb traced my burn, it didn't hurt so much, since Loomis took care of it. My tears slowly stopped falling and, I was able to pace my breathing. The hysterics were fading.

Pulling my wrist free, I took Michael's hand in my own. Squeezing. He returned the grip.

"Thank you…"

Time passed.

Everyone aside from Michael had been gathered and given strict orders to never mention anything about Halloween around him, and to avoid the holiday at all circumstances if possible.

There was a big feast on Thanksgiving and Christmas for those of us who didn't have families. Loomis, Hill and Grannell were all around, not really having families of their own. Loomis wanted nothing, but, the best for the children here, despite the different backgrounds we had.

Samantha regained her voice early, December. After I received the mark, she'd become rather close to me, and we even started hanging out, she started competing with Michael for my attention.

She told me, she didn't like him. As always, her accusations were vague. Samantha wouldn't give up any information. I didn't know if she had dreams about him, like I did.

And with her having such a distaste for Michael, I wasn't even sure why Wynn had even considered her, as a candidate for baring the next generation? There was no chemistry between them. Though, I didn't see why there needed to be if part of the role was being unable to resist? Maybe, if there was no bond present, I'd just ended up with the delusions Samantha suffered? Maybe, Sam had been fine before they kidnapped her? But, why else would she be in a place like this?

Chelsea and Nancy were at each other's throats for a while. But, April, 1970, Chelsea was released. Her treatment complete. Some estranged family had gotten word of her being in Smith's Grove and on her 18th birthday, came to take her home.

 **\- 1 Month before Halloween - September 1970 -**

The year was going by, well, until the start of September, like the prior year.

Dr. Loomis' behavior changed. He started looking at Michael with hatred in his eyes. Speaking harshly about him, whenever he thought that no one was listening. That he deserved to be in jail, which was true, but, seeing him turn on Michael, so suddenly was frightening. If he'd snap that easily, whose to say he wouldn't do that to any one of us.

Loomis and Michael started having intense, one-on-one time. Apparently, he'd started scrawling these strange photos on the walls of the boys' ward. Mason told everyone it was scribings of a woman, her expression was pained, and each drawing was scribbled in red.

Mason was released soon after, being returned to his parents. However, a few weeks later, I caught wind of the nurses speaking of his death. The family car had been run off the road. It was purely bad luck. But, with the coincidence of him calling attention to Michael's sketches, I wasn't so sure it had been an accident. If Michael hadn't killed him personally, maybe Wynn and his followers did?

While waiting in the main room, for Michael to be released, I overheard a conversation between James and Nancy.

"Honestly, I agree with Sam and Jen. Michael's a maniac and shouldn't be here. They should have his girlfriend transferred too. She's a psycho bitch." Nancy was holding James' hand, nestling up to him. James sighed, shaking his head. "The other doctors don't agree, at least Carpenter and Wynn don't, and since they have the last say, both of 'em are stuck with us."

She pressed her body against his. "I'm gonna miss you when you leave, you know. Are you gonna wait for me?" Her lips kissed his jawline. "Of course babe, you're my cherry, I'd be crazy not to wait for you."

"Alright love birds, break it up. You know the rules, no touching." The voice came from Wallace, he worked in security, it was rare to see him during the day.

"There is no negro, that can tell me what to do…" James muttered under his breath. He and Wallace had never gotten along from what I'd seen.

"Young man, that isn't how you talk to people, your daddy may say that it's okay, but guess what, your daddy ain't here." Wallace replied, the metallic chime of handcuffs were heard soon after.

Loomis' voice interrupted. "William, that's quite enough, you need not let the children antagonize you."

He scoffed. "Isn't that a bit hypocritical with how you've been treating Michael, lately?"

"That boy is a different case."

Wallace walked passed me, throwing his arms up. "Sure thing, Sam. But, that boy hasn't acted out of the ordinary around me."

Seeing the angry expression on Loomis' face, I didn't want anything to do with him. He'd been full of rage lately, yelling at Michael, the other doctors, he just wasn't himself, and he wasn't someone I wanted to be around.

So, I followed Wallace, instead. Waiting until we got a good distance away from the doctors, before allowing my footsteps to be heard, he turned, wondering who was following.

This was a technique I learned from watching Michael.

He smiled, seeing that it was only me. "Oh, Elaine, what's up, kid?"

"Can you-" I swallowed my fears, not wanting to finish my sentence. "Can you take me to Dr. Wynn?"

Wynn was my only chance to see Michael, he'd be the only one who would listen. Because his planned relied on our relationship.

"Terence? I didn't think you liked him? Are you sick or injured? I can take you to one of the other doctor's…" His voice was unsure.

I shook my head. "No, it-it has to be Dr. Wynn."

"Alright, let's go." He held out his hand, ready to lead me. Still unsure, but, not about to deny my request.

Wallace had been one of the few men I allowed to work with me. Originally it had only been Loomis, but, since Loomis started acting so strange, I'd bonded with Wallace. Talking to him and having him or Dr. Hill escort me wherever I needed.

Knocking on Dr. Wynn's office door, Wallace called out, "Terence, Elaine wants to see you." There was some rustling of papers before Wynn answered. "Let her in."

Wallace opened the door, allowing me to head inside, before closing the door and returning to his duties. Wynn eyed me suspiciously. "You haven't even glanced my way in nearly a year. I'm curious as to why you've come to me." An eyebrow was raised.

Taking a deep breath, I spoke, hoping to hide the fear in my voice. "Since, I'm giving you what you want. In return, you could give me something I want." I knew he wouldn't deny my request. He was the only one who wouldn't deny me.

His elbows were resting on his desk as his hands were folded in front of him. "And what it is that I have?"

"Access to Michael."

"Michael? Yes, Samuel has been rather paranoid lately. Hasn't he let you see him?" Wynn stood from his desk, pushing his chair aside.

I took a step back, though I knew he couldn't hurt me while everyone was present, I still had the urge to run. "No, he hasn't. Michael's barely left the ward." For being one of the administrators, Wynn didn't keep much of an eye on the place.

"I see…" He pressed a button on his desk, making a call. "Dawn, would you go down to the juvenile ward and escort Michael to one of the solitary rooms?"

"Yes, sir, right away." Her response was quick.

He moved around his desk, seeing that I had again taken a step away. His expression was still curious. "You do realize I am not going to harm you, as long as you provide me with what I want? Keep Michael's attention, and you'll be fine."

I fell silent as soon as we left his office, walking through the corridors, taking a path that avoided Loomis and Hill, so that they wouldn't ask any questions.

When we arrive at solitary, the lights were dimmed, Dawn and Mary standing outside of the room, nodding at Wynn when they saw him approaching, walking away the same second.

Wynn opened the door. "You two, can have your privacy. I'll be waiting out here. Do _anything_ you like."

I didn't like the emphasis Wynn had put in the last part of his sentence.

Michael stood at the back of the room, facing away from the door, staring at the wall, as normal. Quickening my pace, I moved to his side, keeping my hands behind my back .  
There was no way possible to sneak up on him, he always knew when someone was close. Knowing that, I still, always, gave him a few silent minutes to adjust to the change.

"Haven't seen you in a few days…" I smiled, turning my head. His stance relaxed, signifying that he was fine with me approaching him. Another thing I had learned from being around him. If his stance was stiff, he was in a foul mood and did not want to be touched, his relaxed stance wasn't too different, you had to watch his eyes and shoulders. His gaze was normally intense, whenever I was near, it seemed to be a bit more content, and his shoulders lowered slightly.

Moving, I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning into his shoulder. The times he hugged me back were rare, I'd gotten used to being the only one enjoying the closeness. At least, the only one showing the enjoyment.

We stood that way for a few minutes, before I remembered how Nancy always cuddled up to James. Michael and I weren't as old as those two were, but, I wondered if he'd like the attention? I didn't want to be like her, or take advice from her, yet, curiosity had the better of me. The worst he could do is reject my advances, push me away, or back away himself. That wasn't so bad.

"Hey, do you think it would be alright if I tried something?"

He wouldn't speak, I knew that. However, I heard his heart, beat a little faster, upon my asking. I moved slowly, standing on my tip toes, before placing my lips on his jawline, mimicking Nancy's movements.

Michael seemed shocked, pushing me back, pinning me against the wall. His breathing increased, as his eyes locked with mine. I couldn't tell how he felt. I was intimidated, he towered over me.

"I'm sorry!" I squeaked, a bit panicked that I'd triggered something in him.

Michael cocked his head to the side, slowly, the pressure withdrew from my shoulders. A hand moved to my cheek, in a gentle caress. His other hand moving under my arm and behind me back as he leaned in, his lips touching mine for a brief moment, before pulling away, acting as if nothing had happened.

A warmth rose through my body. My face flushed. He was curious, just not ready, it seemed.

"Sorry…" I apologized again. "I should have told you what I wanted to do."

The door creaked open, and a smirk played on Michael's lips.

"Sorry kids, but, times up. Can't have you two missing for too long." Wynn replied, furrowing his brow when he'd seen that we'd only been standing there.

There was no sneaking up on Michael.

My breathing stopped. Lungs started to burn.  
There was a darkness surrounding me, was I asleep? A strange feeling washed over me, I don't know how to describe it, aside from the fact I could feel my own energy, as if it was tangible. The sensation collected in the center of my chest resonating alongside pulse. My body dropped, consumed by the darkness.

Within the void, structure began to form below me. And I was heading into a collision.

Instead of death, I jerked awake, laying in damp grass, tall bushes surrounding either side of me, a wooden structure behind me, a deck or a porch. It took a moment to register, but, Samantha was next to me, crouched and peeking around the edge of the hedges. She glanced towards me, seeing that I was awake.

Immediately she placed a finger over her lips, telling me to keep quiet.  
Slowly, and quietly, I moved into a similar crouched position.

"Is this your first time here?" Her voice, was a bit wheezy. "Do you know what to do? How to avoid him?" She probed, nervously.

"Wait, where are we? What's happening?"

There was a helpless look in her eyes. "You haven't been here before… I don't know if I'll have time to explain everything…" She glanced around the bushes again.

"Where are we?" I repeated my previous question.

"Haddonfield. Well, it's kinda like Haddonfield. A dream version of it. We're being hunted here."

I glanced around the opposite bush, trying to figure out what happened. "Hunted? By who?"

This time, Samantha looked at me sternly. "Michael…"

"Michael? Our Michael?"

She nodded. "This place, I don't know how it came to exist, but, these dreams are the most violent, vivid, dreams I have ever had. He tortures people here. For fun. He sees it as some sick, twisted game he can play, without any consequence." Another check.

"Oh, that happened to me before. Only, I was in a house."

"His house... The place where everything began.. That's where I first woke up, too. I walked down to the kitchen and was brutally stabbed, barely hanging onto life, being left , bleeding to death in the hall."

Samantha made another peak around. "We really need to move. Stay close to me, alright?" She grabbed my hand, quickly walking to the street. Multiple police cars were parked in front of a blue house, a little away. I recognized the house as his. It was the same design, despite actually being part of a town and not hidden away in the woods.

We moved several houses down, heading inside and upstairs. Samantha made sure to check each other the rooms, including closets, before stopping at the top of the stairs.

"Okay, this place should be safe for a few minutes. We should see him coming." She leaned against the wall. "If you're going to survive, you need to learn some of the tricks. The first, is that he sees us as prey, and he is the predator. We are no threat to him. None at all. So, never try to fight him directly, it will only get you killed. "

The wind rustled the shutters on the window next to us, causing her to jump, shivering afterwards. "I don't know how, but, the more he watches you, the faster he's able to move, and the easier he can predict your movements. So, if you ever see him staring at you, you need to get out of his line of sight. Never lock eyes with him. That only fuels his desire to kill you. He'll lash out even more violent than normal. And, since you're here, it's only fair to warn you that he will corner you, and let you go, only to chase you down again. Don't mistake it for mercy, or luck: He has a plan."

She paused glancing out the window, then downstairs. "If you know he's around, try and keep your breathing quiet, and listen for his own. That will give his position away, you don't want to accidentally run into him.  
One last thing, only run if he's right behind you. He wants you to constantly run, to wear yourself out. But, if you don't see or hear him, just walk, mind the corners, take care of where you step, and if you have to, take your shoes off. It'll mask your steps."

Glass shattered downstairs, an object was thrown through the window. The object started moving frantically, desperate to live, squawking and crying out in pain. It was a bird. "Shit…" Samantha muttered under her breath. "He's here, he knows we're here... We need to leave."

Michael walked up to the front door, wearing that mask from before, knife in hand, staring at us. Samantha grabbed my hand, running into the bedroom next to us, locking the door. "Like I said, do not let him look at you for long." She hurried over to the window, unlocking and opening it. "Oh, and, don't try to leave this street. You can't, he won't let you."

The handle of the door rattled. "How long do we have to run from him?"

Samantha gave me a look of doom. "Until we wake up." She hopped out the window and onto the roof, offering her hand to help me over the window sill.

"Dying doesn't mean anything here, I tried just letting him kill me, hoping that I'd wake up faster, but, that only worked for a little while. Eventually, I just started waking up on a different part of this street. Sometimes, he already knows where I am. "

Walking over to the edge of the roof, I looked down. It was only a one story drop, nothing ridiculous. Samantha jumped down rather quickly, motioning me to follow her. I did, landing hard.

"It gets easier" She reassured me for, breaking into a light job, headed down the street, towards the police lights, ducking behind one of the cars. I followed a bit slower, checking behind me to see if I could see, Michael. I did.

He was just standing on the sidewalk, staring at me. I needed to get out of his line of sight and I didn't want to lead him to Samantha, so I quickly headed up the steps to another house, opening the door and heading inside. It would be dumb to head upstairs, if I jumped off the roof and hurt myself, he'd find me, and kill me. I made my way through the house looking for a backdoor. Breathing a sigh of relief when I found it.

Opening the door, I planned to loop around and hopefully meet up with Samantha. However, Michael had different plans. As soon as I stepped foot out the door, his arm swung out, knife digging deep into my chest. The air left my lungs from the surprise, and a metallic taste formed in my mouth.

Michael moved in front of me, pulling the knife from my chest. Gripping my shoulder with one hand, drawing back his knife, ready for another stab. Somehow, I had just enough energy to catch his arm before he could bring the blade down. He wasn't putting any effort forward, there was no resistance against my arm, Michael was only watching me. Judging my movements.

He let me go seconds later, watching me fall to the ground, before heading out the back door.

Samantha ran up to me from the front. "You're going to bleed out… You should have let him stab you… It would have been mercy compared to this…"

The familiar burning returned. I struggled to bring in air. "Don't worry, I'll find you before he can."

He'd come back in, through the front door, my eyes went wide. This had been a trap for Sam. He knew she was waiting, to see how fatal my wounds were. Hoping she could save me.

"R-run…" I warned, my voice barely a whisper. She looked behind her, Michael only inches away.

"I should've known." She chastised herself, getting to her feet, but, not without suffering a slash across her back. At least she made it out the door.

Again, Michael stared at me, coming closer, dropping to his knees, pinning my shoulder to the floor, his knife sinking into my gut, the blade aimed upwards. I let out a cry, trying my best to kick him off, I didn't have the strength to keep my leg up and it slid back to the floor. Again, he pulled the blade out, examining my blood, coating the knife, dripping off.

I didn't have long, he knew it and moved to continuing to chase Sam. She needed more time. My hand loosely clenched his shirt, his attention turned back to, sliding the knife across my wrist, forcing me to let go and causing me to cry out in pain again.

 **Darkness.**

Once again, I awoke, between the same bushes, next to Sam. The gash visible on her back, it wasn't nearly as deep as I originally thought. "This time, if you run through a house, you need to make sure he's inside before you try and exit. I tried to make it over to warn you.. I watched him walk around."

Making my way to a crouched position again, I instinctively ran my hand across where my wound had been. "So, if I pass the place I died, and step on the symbol, I'm going to feel all the pain again, and that's how he's going to attack me, right?"

She looked at me confused. "What? No, the Thorn symbols shouldn't harm you. They only mark where someone has died."

I'd seen so many marks my first time in this place. I wonder if they were Samantha's? Or, if others were here?

Our reunion was cut short, when Michael's kitchen knife was thrown into the grass before us. The two of us looked up, seeing him casually leaning against the porch railing. Avoiding all eye contact. How long had he been listening? Why didn't he want me to question the symbols?

Sam grabbed my hand again, pulling me up, before she took off down the street, figuring I was smart enough to run with her. I backed up slowly, bending down when I reached the knife. Finally, he looked down at me. With the knife firmly grasped in my hand, I continued to back away slowly.

"What makes me different?"

A devious smirk played on his lips. I'd have to figure that out myself.

I broke into a run, catching up with Samantha down the street, hiding between someones shed and a fence.

"You took his knife? It's not like we can fight him with it. Or like he can't kill us without it."

"Yes…" I turned my back to her, looking to see if Michael was anywhere around. "But, I think knives are his preferred method. So, maybe it'll take him longer to reach us."

"If he can't just materialize them."

We kept moving, knowing not to stay in one place too long and we'd been spooked with him being so close to us, and we were none the wiser. We moved, hiding between a house and some bushes, it wasn't the safest place, but, it sufficed.

"Hey… Do you have the mark?" I asked, peaking around the house. Still no sign of him.

Sam had climbed some rubble next to the house, looking over the shrubs. "The mark? You mean Thorn?" She hopped back down, rolling up the sleeve of her shirt. "Yeah, I do." Her mark wasn't placed on her wrist, like Michael and my own. It was farther up her arm, close to the inner curve of her elbow. "The head prick, thought it would be a good idea to place it somewhere easily hidden. Dr. Loomis still found it though. He was convinced Michael had done it, since I received my mark just a day after his own. "

An arm reached through the shrub, narrowly missing Samantha.

We quickly jumped into the house, from an open window and ran through the side door, headed back towards Michael's house again. The police lights weren't on, leaving the streets rather dark.

"He plans on toying with us…"

Approaching the car, in order to investigate if the lights could be turned back on, we noticed that Thorn had been etched into the window. "Great…" Sam muttered. "Maybe that knife will come in handy. Last minute escape method. Jam the blade into his neck, for a change. "

"Has Michael ever spoken to you?" I asked as we walked around the car, headed for a house that had a porch light lit. It seemed like a trap, but, at least we could see what was coming.

Sam shook her head. "The kid can't talk."

I stopped, looking behind me. I didn't see him. "Yes he can." She turned around facing me. "What did he say?" A sigh left, as I started to walk once again. "I asked a yes or no question. He said yes, that's all."

"Wow…." Sam crouched down, looking for any signs of Michael already being at the house. "Has he done anything else surprising?"

"He kissed me today…" I confessed, glancing to the side. She looked at me, her eyes wide. "And now he's trying to kill you. I guess romance isn't dead, but, you will be if you keep getting that close to him."

"I can't help it.. It's like I'm drawn to him. " We made it to the porch, opening the door slowly, before heading inside. The electricity worked.  
It would be hard for him to sneak up on us now.

Samantha again made sure the closet was empty, before even thinking about resting. "Michael has always had that influence on people. People either take an interest in him, or they want to taunt him. Like Tony, not to be confused with Anthony. He was moved to a permanent, private cell, because he attacked Michael. Michael logged a crayon in his eye. Roger took the blame for it."

"But, if you know that Roger didn't do it, didn't the doctors believe you?"

"You don't understand. Dr. Wynn, he controls everything. He's the reason Michael is able to get away with everything. He has Carpender under his thumb. Nothing, that anyone says about Michael will make a difference if those two don't agree."

It was nice to be in the light, able to see any movement, Michael loosing the element of surprise. The lights may have also taken away our ability to surprise him, but, the gain was better than the loss.

We moved to the kitchen, I still had his knife in hand. "Have you ever tried to kill him?" I examined the knife, looking up to Samantha for an answer. "Of course. I didn't want to just be some helpless damsel. Being trapped in such a small area, there's only so many places you can run, each time he finds a hiding spot, you can't expect to use it again. He's too smart for that."

"So...What did you do?"

She leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I stabbed him. In his chest, in his side, in his back. Once, I managed to knock him down, and I stabbed him repeatedly. His eyes closed and his breathing stopped. I thought I'd finally got him. That it was over. I'd wake up and hell, maybe he'd actually be dead." Samantha's gaze dropped, she sighed. "I knew I should have run, but, I backed up against the door, letting myself drop, keeping my eyes on him, while waiting to wake up. He started breathing again. I watched him get back up, like he always did. I just gave up. I didn't resist when he killed me that time. There was no point."

"It's not that hard to believe that he got up. I mean, when we die, we wake up…"

"I don't think he'll ever die. In here or out there."

There was a loud pop in the living room, followed by the sound of glass shattering. The room went dark. Samantha immediately moved to the back door. "The door's locked!" She shrieked.

"Can't you just unlock it?" I offered, walking closer to her. "No, it's locked from the other side." She moved to the basement door, the knob broke off.

"We walked right into his trap."

I looked at the knife again. "We can fight him."

Sam scoffed. "He'll just get back up."

"Yeah, but, if we knock him down, we can at least run."

The kitchen was rather open. Whichever one of us he decided to go after, the other could maneuver around him, taking the opening to stab him. As soon as he was down, we'd bolt to the front door.

A stone flew across the dining room, crashing with the light, causing that room to go dark. We had no choice but, to let him watch us, while he approached the kitchen. His hand flipped the light switch down, this room was dark now too. Michael dug his fingers behind the switch, tearing the cover off, and with a spark, cutting the wires with his knew knife.

We were lured into a false sense of security.

He looked directly at me. I had his old knife, and was the only threat. Making me his target. He walked towards me, Samantha moved, ready to slip out behind him, but, he changed his course, easily closing the distance between Sam and himself, grabbing her shirt and throwing her against the fridge, he lifted his knife, ready to end her. But, I couldn't let it happen.

"Michael!" I called, grabbing his shoulder, when he turned, I plunged the knife into his neck. He let out a gasp, shoving me against the table, and slamming his knife into the wood, just inches away from my head. His mouth curved into a frown. Effortlessly taking the knife from his neck, gripping the blade tightly.

Sam tried to get up, just to have Michael turn, grab and throwing her against the fridge again.

My hand slid over the knife, searching for the handle; apparently stabbing him multiple times over and over again was the only way.  
As soon as I grasped it, he turned back around, seeing my hand in the air. That devious smirk played across his lips again as he wrapped his hand around my wrist, pushing me passed him, but keeping his grasp on me, tightly holding my free hand, keeping me from struggling too much. His other hand wrapped around my grip on the knife, securing the blade, I couldn't drop it. He nudged me forward again.

"Michael, no…" I gasped, realizing his plan. Samantha coward against the fridge, cornered. Her eyes were wide, as I bet my own were. My entire body was trembling, I struggled, trying to find any room to wiggle out of his grip. My breath struggled to keep up with my thrashing, as I frantically tried to do anything. Escape his grasp, drop the knife, anything.

Samantha tried to run, he let go of my free hand, catching her and again effortlessly tossing her back into the corner. I tried to pry his grip away from my other hand, he was too strong. He seemed to find enjoyment in my feeble attempts. My last attempt was trying to manipulate his arm, into either stabbing me, or himself. He toyed with me, giving me a few inches, making me think that for a second I could beat him.

He grabbed my arm again, bringing me back to him. His hand closed around my other wrist, using his strength to keep me from escaping and pinning Sam to the fridge with my hand.

She hadn't said a word. I could only imagine how afraid she was. Michael was going to kill her once again, but, he was using her friend to do so. He reeled our hands back, plunging the knife into her shoulder. Her shriek hurt me, tears stung my eyes. "Sam,... I'm sorry." My apology was quiet. I wasn't sure if she'd even heard it as Michael struck her again, cutting across her arms as she tried to defend herself. He struck her again and again, 11 times in total.

As soon as her body went limp, lifeless, he turned his attack on me, pinning me against the back door. His body was uncomfortably close to mine. "You don't have to do this…." I wasn't sure why I was still trying to reason with him.

He didn't waste any time in stabbing me in the throat, exactly where I stabbed him. The metallic taste returned, I gasped, hand clenching the fabric of his clothes. "Why?" I begged, desperate for an answer. There had to be one. Why did he find so much enjoyment in such a horrid action.

There was never an answer.

Michael reached up, taking his mask off, tossing it onto the table. His face showed his twisted excitement, and the excitement was mirror in his breathing, which had grown heavier.

Michael was examining me, watching the blood spill from around the knife, and dripping from my mouth.

It was taking me way too long to die. I should have blacked out by now, but, here I was, wide-eyed, gazing into the chilling blue eyes of my killer.

"What makes me different?" I repeated my question from earlier, in a surprisingly clear voice. "Why am I special?"

His lips connected with my own, not minding the blood.

Only then was I allowed to fall back into the darkness.

 **To be continued…**


	6. Approaching Doom

**Chapter 6: Approaching Doom.  
** _ **\- One Month Before Halloween - September 1970 -**_

Revenge.

His actions were purely and simply revenge.

I lay awake in bed. Samantha was awake as well. We didn't speak, understandably so.

She'd told me, she stabbed him. Multiple times. He returned the favor, making her suffer through the wounds she inflicted on him. He did the same with me, stabbing me exactly where I stabbed him, forcing me to kill my friend, when I was trying to save her.

But, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. The pleasure he took in each strike, trapping his victims, pinning them, allowing them to realize there was no escape, before killing them. He'd even killed me. Three times now. And, I was supposed to be his friend.

Shifting my position, I rolled over, seeing Samantha quietly staring at me. I wonder what she thought of me? Did she believe that I hadn't struggled enough? That I let him use me to kill her?

We weren't alone. And neither of us needed Nancy to overhear, so she could go and tell the doctors that we were being attacked by Michael in our sleep. Loomis would probably lose his cool.

It didn't take long for me to roll back over. I couldn't stand that look of betrayal in her eyes.

My fingers traced over the burn on my wrist. His mark. The mark that tied all of us together. There were still times I would get phantom pains, the mark would still burn. I took a deep breath, recalling the last year I'd spent with Michael, each interaction we had. I replayed every significant event.

"How do you feel when you're near Michael? Do you feel fear?" Had been Dr. Wynn's first question to me, the day after I decided to sit across from him.

Dr. Loomis' question was next. "Has Michael said anything to you? A greeting, a threat? Anything at all?" I should have realized he had it out for Michael back then.

"Gonna try and befriend the devil, huh?" Nancy's comment. "He'll kill you, you know?" Last year I didn't believe a word of it. Michael seemed like a sweet child.

The first response I'd ever gotten from him was just a simple shrug of the shoulder, when I told him I didn't want him to be alone. Later that day was the first time our eyes met. He just seemed annoyed by the doctors watching our every move. Now, I knew there was much more hidden behind. His hatred for this place, his loathing of Loomis.

I should have taken the hint when the doctors decided it was best to separate us. If not, their warning, then from the first dream I had of him. The white room, the feeling of no escape, those masks, the blood splashed across the floor. I was taken to his home, where I walked upstairs, seeing him examine a knife, freshly coated in blood.

Samantha's blood.

He stabbed my left shoulder, strangled me, threw me down the stairs. All while I suffered in reality, nearly losing my life. Luckily the doctors were able to stabilize my seizures. Without any drastic measures.

I was locked inside of my own mind, not able to awaken. Because he didn't want to let me go. He met me at my bedside, I begged him to help me and when I fell back to sleep, in my coma, I re-awoke in his world. He stabbed me twice more, ending my life in that world.

Samantha tried to warn me of her connection to Michael. But, she couldn't find the words, not without me thinking she was crazy. I hadn't realized how afraid of Wynn, she was. I didn't know the horror's that lay behind him.

Chelsea was unaware of everything that happened, and encouraged me to continue pursuing my friendship with him. I brushed the dreams off as just dreams.

Michael took my hand. I noticed his scar.

Anthony attacked me soon after, due to some grudge against Michael.

The same night, Michael killed Anthony.

I was so bewildered by his actions, I couldn't figure out what to say. So in the end, I asked if he would confirm that Anthony's death was his doing. He spoke to me. Just the simple word: "Yes" But, that word was significant.

He took joy in taking Anthony's life, and he took joy in showing his work to me.

A thought suddenly occurred to me that I mumbled out loud. "He wants me to enjoy it too."

"Probably. I mean, you two do have that creepy bond." Samantha offered from across the room. "Don't worry, Nancy isn't here."

I turned back over. "Where is she?"

She grumbled, laying on her back. "I don't know, screwing around with James, maybe, Michael finally decided to kill her." There was a bit of bitterness to her tone. "Do you ever sneak out to see Michael?"

"No."

"Well, since Nancy is gone, you should. Maybe ask him why the fuck he gets off of killing people. Why he likes killing the only soul here that sees him as more than a monster."

I sighed, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm pissed. If he wants to play with you, he can leave me out of it. He didn't even show mercy…" She turned back over, facing me again. "How did he kill you? Did he even? Or did you two just make out over my corpse?"

What did I even tell her? She was right in a way. "Sam, he's obsessed with me."

She laughed. "So you did make out over my corpse? What the hell…"

"I think he was trying to send us a message. He stabbed you, like you said you stabbed him, and as soon as you died, he jammed the knife into my neck, like I did to him."

"So, he didn't kiss you?"

"He did. He pinned me to the door, watching me bleed out, and right before I woke up, he kissed me."

"What a freak."

The door to the room opened, Nancy made a disgusted sound, before throwing a book at me, which hit me in the back. "You're freaking boyfriend is out stalking the halls and totally ruined my moment. Tell him it's passed lights out and he needs to go to sleep."

I rolled my eyes, replying, snarkly "You were breaking curfew."

"Yeah, but, I had a reason, aside from being a creep." She scoffed.

Standing, I hesitantly made my way to the door, knowing I'd have to sneak around staff and security. Michael was waiting for me.  
The door opened with a slight creak. I didn't see him.

Quietly, making my way down the hall, searching for him, I heard footsteps and the jingle of keys. "Who's there?" The voice came from Wallace, security. He was rather lenient when it came to discipline, as long as you normally stayed out of trouble.

When I turned the corner, I felt a hand reach out and grab me, pulling me towards them, it was Michael.

For some reason, I smiled, seeing him. He cocked his head, a confused look across his face.

"Hey, you kids can't be out at this-" Wallace halted, illuminating Michael and I with his flashlight. "Elaine, Michael? You two never break the rules, what are you doing?"

"Uh-umm…"

His flashlight moved, illuminating our hands. A smile stretched across his face. "Well, you two aren't causing any harm, and I know you haven't been able to hang out lately, so, I'll tell you what, as long as you two don't do anything reckless, the shower rooms are always empty at this time of night. You can talk or whatever there for a while. Just don't get caught coming back, I won't be able to save you."

Michael tugged at my arm, alerting me to follow him. Wallace continued his sweep of the building.

The closest shower room was the girls room, and we entered cautiously, headed all the way to the back, if anyone did enter, we'd be able to hide. We sat on the benches. Michael still clutched my hand.

"Why are we here?" I felt as if I was talking to a wall at this point. His face always blank, even when dragging me around the building. I was getting frustrated. "Michael, do you remember the dreams? Killing Sam, killing me?" Still nothing, not a glance, not a smile. I yanked my hand free, standing. "What do you want from me!?" My voice was a bit louder than it should have been.

Finally, he looked up at me, reaching to grab my hand, pulling me back down to the bench.

"Why don't you talk to me…? How do you expect to be my friend if you hurt me without explanation?" I continued to probe, almost not caring if the reaction I got was violent. "I want an answer!" Again, I pulled my hand free, pushing him away from me. "It's like you're two different people. And both sides are stubborn.."

Once again, I made it to my feet, ready to walk out on him. I almost made it to the door, before I turned around, moving to the bench behind him, sitting down again, my back against his own. "I don't know what to do…" My voice was softer this time. "It's not like I can just abandon you, if this damn mark doesn't force us together, Wynn will…"

He moved, straightening his spine, glancing back at me.

"Just talk to me.. Talk to me, so I can help you." Michael scoffed, leaning forward. I knew I was probably just repeating what the doctors had told him hundreds of times.

Sliding to the edge, half facing him, I threw my arms around the back of his neck, pressing my head to his back.

"Do you remember killing me tonight?" A hand covered my own. "Is that a yes?" Michael stood, facing me, placing his hand on my cheek, before moving it to my neck, tracing the area he stabbed. He did remember.

"Is it like a guilty pleasure?" He pushed me against the wall, pinning me as he had in the dream. Another yes. "You hurt me, Michael." I pushed against him. Surprisingly, he allowed me to put some distance between us.

This time I was ready to leave, turning and headed towards the door. He grabbed my hand, before putting his arms around my neck, resting his chin on my head.

Samantha had pretty much kept Michael and I away from each other. Dr. Loomis did the rest. Michael stayed in his room most of the time now. There were no more dreams, no more midnight visits. It was peaceful. But, I felt as if something was missing.

Samantha turned towards me during free time. We were both sitting on the bench in front of the window. "Give it a few years and I'm sure Michael will start sneaking out to see you a lot more."

I closed my book, staring into space. "Do you really think he'll act like James does around Nancy?"

She closed the distance between us, keeping our conversation a bit more secretive. "No, of course he won't. He's way more violent. There's no denying his urges. He likes to scare people, make them feel helpless. It'll only get worse the more he ages. And the older he gets, the older you get. You're his main target here. And he isn't actually killing you, so I'm guessing he has ulterior motives."

Looking around to make sure the doctors weren't too close, she leaned in and whispered again. "Michael's case is probably going to get dismissed, If Wynn has anything to say about it. Whenever you get out of here, you two can probably meet up. Maybe he'll actually talk to you."

"Or maybe he'll just go on a killing spree. He's a psycho." Nancy chimed in, plopping down in the seat behind us. "Oh, now that James is gone, your gonna hang around us?" Samantha raised a brow. "Yeah, nothing better to do."

"Anyway, having boy troubles with Michael? Maybe, I could help? I don't know much about him, if anything, but, I can give you some tips to make yourself irresistible."

"Not every problem can be solved by flaunting your body around." Samantha snapped, glancing at me to make sure I was alright. I smiled in response.

Nancy sighed, "That serious huh?"

I nodded.

She was confused. Not understanding how the two of us could possibly have problems, when, Michael never spoke. "Sooo, does he like talk to you or write, something like that?"

There was no way I was about to tell Nancy that he'd ever said a word to me. Even if she was acting nice right now, she'd easily run and tell the doctors. I hadn't forgotten the times she tried to get us in trouble.

I took a deep breath, thinking about how much information I wanted to give her. "He communicates with stares and body language."

"That's creepy."

Neither of us could disagree with her. It was a little unsettling. The way you could talk to him, yell at him, and he just sat there, paying no mind.

I had picked up on a few hints he gave, his main communication was his stares. They told nothing, and everything at the same time. Michael was talented, keeping anyone he didn't want to know, from seeing his few expressions.

When we met in the shower rooms, I knew what each movement meant. When he tugged on my hand, pulling me back down next to him, he was telling me to calm down, I was being too loud and could end up drawing attention to us. Again, when I left, and came back, sitting behind him, he'd titled his head as if he were asking if my tantrum was over. He was hard, yet easy to speak with.

If he wanted to answer, you'd know everything. If he didn't, you were left with mystery. Like Dr. Loomis. Michael didn't want to answer to him, because of his hatred for him. He answered to me, because he liked me.

It was strange.

"Michael is complicated." I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Nancy huffed. "That sucks. I've always wanted to know what he sounded like. Since he's such a creep, his voice must be dreamy. That's how all guys are."

Sam let out a laugh. "So does that mean James was a creep? You always said his voice was nice." Nancy didn't like being teased. "You're just jealous that none of the guys are into you."

We all quieted down, whenever a heavy footfall neared. "Are you girls getting along? This is surprising."

I froze. The voice belonged to Wynn. Samantha moved away from me, putting distance between her and the doctor. He walked around until he was standing in front of me. "Elaine, would you like to go see, Michael?"

Wynn waited for this moment. With everyone around, in the main room. There was no way I could refuse without causing a scene. He knew it.

Nodding, I stood, following him through the room, and to the halls.

Hands clasped behind his back, he walked next to me. "Why are you avoiding him?"

"He hasn't been out in the common room." That was obviously only part of the reason. Ever since that last dream, I'd been trying to distance myself, if only a little. And with Dr. Loomis being over paranoid, it was easy to keep away from him.

His lips pursed. "You haven't asked to see him in nearly three weeks. Do you not miss him?"

"Your curse has been working just fine, if that's what you're worried about!" I hissed through my teeth.

"Now, that is what I like to hear."

I was lead through the familiar corridors, heading towards the solitary wards. There was rarely anyone here. A couple nurses made their way through, checking on whoever was admitted, and of course, security made rounds as well.

A young male scream could be heard coming from one of the rooms. It wasn't Michael, I didn't recognize the voice. As we passed the nurses station, Wynn pressed a button, calling the other station near my ward. "Mary, please send someone over to assist me with Tony. He's having yet another episode."

Quickly he walked me to the free room, shoving me inside before closing the door. I turned, seeing him walk over to the next room, working to calm whoever was screaming down.

My attention turned back to the place I was in, examining the room until I saw Michael standing in the corner, leaning against the wall to the right of me. He didn't seem well. Glancing out the window to see more nurses show up, I decided that moving away from the door was a good idea and I approached, Michael.

I reached out, to touch his shoulder, wondering what was wrong. "Hey…"

It was barely a whisper, but, I could've sworn I heard Michael speak, though it was nothing audible, more of a grumble than anything.

Immediately I jerked my hand back. "S-sorry… Are you alright?"

Silence.

"So, I only get one word a year?" I tried joking, but, the glare he gave me when he glanced back told me he wasn't in the mood for jokes. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Last time we'd been here, everything was quiet. Now, Tony was screaming, I could hear the doctor's conversation with him. Futile attempts to calm him.

"Just sedate him! We'll deal with the rest later." Wynn hollered to a nurse.

"What on earth is going on?" The new voice belonged to Loomis.

Michael turned, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the corner, covering my mouth with his hand. He didn't want to be discovered, which was a smart idea.

Loomis and Wynn bickered about the best choice for Tony, ultimately Wynn's choice of seduction won, after Tony has apparently struck one of the nurses, her shriek echoing through the walls. It sounded like Loomis was the one to tend to her wounds.

After all the ruckus had ended, Loomis started asking about our whereabouts, he wanted to search the building since neither of us were in our wards, nor were we in the common room. Wynn tried reasoning with him, telling him that he probably overlooked us. It was a weak lie, Loomis seeing right through it.

"You know where the children are, don't you? Why are you hiding them from me?"

"Because your paranoid delusions are keeping them apart! If you haven't noticed, that girl is what's best for Michael." Wynn retaliated.

Dr. Loomis was furious. "What's best for Michael is to be sent to a better facility, to spend his days in solitary until he is tried and punished for his crimes!"

"As you originally suggested… And as I said before, we are here to provide support for these children, not abused or coddle them." There was a crash, a clipboard or similar object thrown. "And what do you think you're doing, allowing them to sneak off? You are coddling them!"

The jingle of keys. "Do you not see how much they support each other, Sam?"

"What I see, Terence, is a lost cause and a girl with a future, who is wasting her time on someone she will never, should never, be with."

Michael let go of me, moving away. I grabbed his hand, smiling at him. He didn't deserve to be treated in such a way. Confusion filled his expression, his brows furrowed, staring at my hand, at how tightly, desperately I clung to him.

The door swung open. Loomis and Wynn both walked in. Anger displayed on both of their faces. Michael pulled his hand free, refusing to look at either doctor. Something was definitely on his mind.

I stepped between him and Loomis. Rage boiling deep inside my stomach. "You can't talk about him like that. You're supposed to be helping him and recently, all you've been doing is hurting him. You're the lost cause!"

A hand clenched the fabric of my shirt. Michael pulled me behind him, standing next to Loomis, eyes down to the floor.

Wynn held his hand out. "Elaine, come with me. Samuel, take Michael back to his room and meet me in my office."

Not another word was exchanged between them, and they took the two of us different paths back. In order to avoid the tension between one another.

"Have you always felt so passionately about, Michael?" Wynn finally asked, feet before the girls ward. He opened the door only a crack, waiting for my response. "There has to be a reason he killed everyone he's killed." I didn't know exactly why, but, I wanted Wynn to know that I knew about the other deaths.

"Well, that's one way to look at it." He replied, opening the door, allowing me to enter before walking away.

The mark was burning again.

I tossed and turned in my sleep, before settling on my left side, tracing the mark with my fingers.

In truth, I was worried. About how much of my thoughts were corrupted by this curse, about Michael's true motive behind everyone he's killed? If he was alright? What did Loomis think of me, now that I stood up to him, for Michael?

What did Michael think?

What did he think about anything?

Sighing, I turned once again. Wishing that there was some way I could trigger one of those dreams. I wanted to talk to him.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the dim lights in the hall flickered. Amanda and Evelyn passed, chatting about the coming storm. They were on their way to check the local stations, making sure the storm wasn't too harsh. A lot of work went into making sure everyone was protected.

I closed my eyes, hoping to drift to sleep again. The storm wasn't going to be bad. The wind wasn't howling, the rain was barely falling, lightly tapping against the window.

 **\- 1971 -**

Months passed, same routine. Christmas dinner, New Years celebration. Samantha was more distant from me after I'd killed her, but, we were still fairly close.

Nancy was a wild card. One day she liked you, the next she didn't. She seemed to be more interested in Michael than before, with James around. And, as Nancy was, she also told us how much she disliked him.

I had another dream, waking up in Haddonfield. But, I was alone. Samantha said she hadn't had those dreams in quite a while. I never saw Michael, at one point I even called out to him, hoping for a glimpse of him.  
Searching through every house, each room, I found nothing. Even the symbols were gone.

In March, Dr. Loomis had him locked in solitary for reasons that were kept quiet from the patients. Rumor spread that it was for Michael's protection, because Loomis was lashing out at him, yelling, demanding him to speak.

With Michael having no family, there would be no lawsuits. Solitary was the only way to separate those two, keeping Loomis in line.

Loomis left for two weeks, rumors surfaced that he quit, that Michael killed him, or that he was fired. Dr. Hill informed everyone that he was simply taking a much needed vacation. Grannel became Michael's caretaker while Loomis was gone. She didn't spend nearly as much time with him, it was refreshing to actually see him out in the common room a few times.

A dark cloud loomed over him. Samantha and I could both feel something was wrong. The reason we both settled on, was that he was looking for his next victim.

Last year was rather peaceful. No missing persons, not suddenly dead staff or patients. At least, not in the juvenile ward. Aside from Mason's. Which was purely coincidental.

We tried to figure out who was next, but, we failed.

In April, Roger was found dead in the boys' ward. He bit off his own tongue and choked on his own blood in the middle of the night. Loomis was on vacation when this happened and Michael hadn't been blamed. However, as soon as he returned, Michael was the prime suspect. He'd gotten in arguments with not only Wynn, but, Carpenter too.

From May through August new patients were admitted.

Amy Martin, a shy girl, with short blonde hair, who happened to be bulimic.  
I felt bad, after every meal, she was escorted around by a doctor, making sure she actually keeps the food down.

Karen Stafford, she was more talkative, her hair was also short and blonde, but curly. She smiled and laughed a lot, but was struggling with depression. She didn't like being alone, and didn't mind who she was next to, whether it was Nancy, or Michael.

Stephan Ashley, he had jet black hair, and was rather laid back, despite the fact that he was here for killing his sister's boyfriend. He saw him raise a hand to her and went into their parents' room, taking his father's gun and hunting him down on his way home, shooting him without a second thought.

Lawrence Hurst, brown hair, he acted out a lot, and part of that acting out had been stealing and distributing prescription pills.

Shawn White, his hair was ginger, he was also admitted for depression. Coming directly from the hospital after attempting to take his own life. He was also pretty reserved. And his first few days were spent in a padded cell, for his own safety.

Finally, there was Leon Brady, he was violently bipolar, also spending a lot of time by himself. He was actually a fairy sweet boy once his medicine was sorted out.

Samantha and I grew weary. Going from five patients to eleven, in just a few months. Michael finally had the room to himself and suddenly, the boys' ward was nearly full again.

Again, Sam started mumbling in her sleep, Nancy's name was mentioned. Michael was targeting her, or so it seemed. Sam had warned her last year that he was going to kill her, and she dismissed it as incoherent rambling.

Samantha has never been comfortable speaking about the link she shared with Michael. Mentioning that she'd randomly peer into his mind, see things through his eyes. I noticed his stares, but, Sam, she could feel the hostility. She knew each person he hated. Anthony, Nancy, Tony, Roger, Loomis. They'd been his main targets and two had already been taken out.

With all the knew emotions mixing, arguments between patients, between the doctor's. One thing was apparent:

There was going to be a bloodbath.

 **To be continued…..**


	7. Hope of Morning

_**Chapter 7: Hope of Morning**_ _  
__**\- 6 weeks before Halloween -**_

"It seems like you've been doing a lot better, Ellie."

In Dr. Hill's presence, I couldn't help but, smile. She understood me. I wondered if her own past was similar to mine? She was also the only doctor that used my preferred nickname now.

"Alright, I think it would be a good idea, if you told me what you remember from that evening. There's still parts of the event that aren't fully explained. And, I want to be able to help your case. These last two years have gone by fairly quickly, with any luck, the next seven will be just as fast."

She pulled out her notepad, ready to write down my recalling. Later she'd compare her notes, making sure I didn't change my story, or to mark if I remembered any more details. The first time I told the story, I left a lot of it out. And I continued leaving parts out for my first year in this place.

"You may start whenever you like."

I took a deep breath, the story still wasn't easy for me.

"It was late February. The 23rd. I was in my room, put to bed at 8pm. My parents were drinking and arguing all day. Around 2am, they started screaming… " My hand clenched around my chair arm, Dr. Hill had been patient as always, letting take a second to collect myself. "Originally they were arguing over something stupid, a book, I think. The focus shifted to me. My… Father, threatened my mother, saying that he was going to hurt me."

Dr. Hill jotted down everything I'd said, watching my reaction, writing that down too.

"Can you tell me exactly what his threats were?"

We'd been through that scenario multiple times, sometimes she asked for specific details, and sometimes she didn't. I was never prepared for when she actually wanted them.

I nodded, closing my eyes. "He told her that he was going to rape me, because she wasn't putting out." She always seemed bothered by how calm, I'd been able to repeat those words. But, that was my life. I'd grown used to it.

"Did he ever touch you before then?"

"Yes." This time she didn't ask for the specifics.

"What happened after he started threatening your mother?"

Another deep breath. "He pulled me out of bed, by my hair, dragging me to the hallway. My mother got between him and me, managing to separate us. They started to fight, physically hitting each other. He knocked her down, walking into their bedroom, I snuck into the bathroom, grabbing a pair of scissors, hiding in the shower. While hiding...I-I.."

It was such a dejected way of thinking. That night, I planned on sacrificing myself, for my mothers benefit. If there was any chance she was still alive.. I didn't know the damage he'd done.

Drawing in another breath, I attempted to calm myself. Opening my eyes, I looked at Dr. Hill, my gaze flickered to the paper on her desk, then to the window. "Everything's fine. It's over." I repeated to myself, over and over. Faking being calm hurt. I'd been smiling, and honestly, I had little reason to.

Here I was, trapped in this glorified prison, with no promise of freedom. The judge could rule that I acted wrongly, and send me to an actual jail for god knows how long.

My chest clenched and I bit my lip, squeezing the chair arms tightly. Yet another deep breath, shaky this time. My pulse pounding in my ears. Looking down, I realized that I was trembling. "Just calm down…." Another futile thought.

I squeezed my eyes shut again. My throat beginning to dry and swell up. Breathing more uneasy as time passed. My stomach churned, remembering the scene in the hallway. Tears stung the brims of my eyes. I couldn't fight the overwhelming sense of dread, weighing on my shoulders, attempting to strangle me.

As much as I wanted to will these feelings away, my thoughts were only making my condition worse. I recalled my mother's last words: "You're not going to touch her."

My next breath was more of a gasp, I brought my hand to my mouth to quiet myself. Of course I was going to do this now.

Dr. Hill started to stand, ready to come around and comfort me. There was a soft click behind me, she sat back down.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, feeling a hand on my shoulder. It was Dr. Loomis. Somehow, his pitied smile was calming. I was able to regain a bit of my composure. "Whenever you're ready, Elaine." Dr. Hill repeated.

"I heard a gunshot." My breathing was still raspy, and hard to understand. "I was hopeful, thinking that it wasn't as bad as it sounded. I hadn't heard my mother gasp in pain, so I didn't think it hurt much, or that he missed…"

"I waited in the shower, hearing him walk into the room. He was stumbling around, drunk, trying to figure out where I'd gotten too. When he neared me, I stabbed him in the stomach, with the scissors, causing him to drop his gun and fall to his knees. "

My body tensed up again. "When I walked out of the bathroom, I notice my mother's lifeless body. He'd shot her in the head. There was a big mess…"

Loomis' grip tightened, letting me know that it was alright. "I ran downstairs and to a neighbor down the street."

"You're doing very well, Elaine. Each time you've handled yourself better than the last." Hill praised.

She finished up everything, writing all the needed information down, and asked me to stay seated while she talked to Dr. Loomis. The two hadn't gone far, just to the other side of the room, behind me.

They were talking about their plans for the evening. Apparently, Loomis was taking her out to dinner. They'd been seeing each other for a while it seemed. She always giggled when he was around. He also seemed to be in a better mood.

Quietly, I shifted my position, turning to peak at them. They were in each other's embrace, tenderly kissing one another.

"Sam, we can continue this later, I have to take Elaine back to the common room, and I'm pretty sure it's almost time for you to check on Michael."

Dr. Loomis scoffed at the thought.

Hill walked back over to me, smiling. "Elaine, are you ready?"

"Actually… I was wondering if I could see, Michael?" I gave her the sweetest look I could manage, and with the breakdown I'd suffered earlier, it would be hard for Dr. Hill to deny me, and if they were a couple, Loomis would have to cave as well.

"I suppose that wouldn't be too much to ask. Both of you have been rather behaved lately." Yet, another annoyed groan from Loomis. "You can take her to Michael, can't you? For me?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Yeah, sure." He replied in the same grumble, waiting for me to meet up with him at the door. We started down the familiar twisting hallways.

Loomis was quiet for most of the walk, eyeing Dr. Wynn as we passed his office.

He let out a sigh, finally speaking, "Has Michael truly been helping your recovery?"

He always seemed to be so fixated on Michael..

"Yeah. When I was at the hospital, I refused to be seen by male nurses or doctor's. I kinda threw a fit when they wanted me to share my room with another boy around my age."

"It doesn't seem as if you fear males, so why is it that you prefer to avoid them?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because, boys always try to use their size against those who are smaller."

Loomis raised a brow. "And, when you're with Michael, he doesn't try to overpower you."

Well, he did. And, of course he did it well, but, I couldn't tell the doctor that. "Michael doesn't really do much."

He chuckled. "That is true."

Finally, we reached the boys' ward, Loomis shooed the other boys out to the common room, so that Michael and I could speak in peace. He'd stay outside, making sure no interrupted us, per Wynn's request.

Michael was standing next to a window, arms crossed. He'd grown up quite a lot the last two years. He was taller now, hair a bit darker, his gaze seemed a bit more sinister. It had ever since that night, when I'd stood up to Dr. Loomis.

Michael wasn't quite the same, and that was saying a lot.

Approaching him, I ran my fingertips over his back, circling around him. "You know, I kinda missed you."

Silence, as usual. He was lost in thought, continuing to look out at the dreary day. I moved in front of the window, leaning against the sill, crossing my arms as well, watching him, waiting for any kind of response.

Eventually, his eyes met mine.

"Well, hi there. I was beginning to think you'd give me the cold shoulder all day." I teased, offering him a smile. "How have you been?"

I knew he wouldn't answer, I just wanted him to know that someone here still cared for him. For his well being.

I closed the distance between us, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't budge. Standing on my tiptoes, stretching up, I placed a light kiss on his cheek. Michael cocked his head, always confused with how willing I was to stand so closely to him.

"So, did you miss me?" He shook his head 'no'. "You're such a tease."

Uncrossing his arms, Michael placed his hand on my cheek, before running his fingers through my hair. Repeating his actions, this time, he wrapped the strands around his fingers, before pulling.

I playfully shoved him away. "Oww! Are you going to be mean today, Michael?" He smirked, before reverting to his crossed arms, gazing blankly through the glass.

Dr. Loomis entered the room, seeing how close I was to Michael. "Is everything alright, Elaine?" He called, probably hearing the 'Oww" I jokingly muttered.

"Yeah, of course, I'd call you if something was wrong." I replied, a delighted smile still on my face.

Michael wasn't very active the rest of our visit. But, I got to tease him, and that's what matters. When I bid goodbye to him, waving as we left the room, Dr. Loomis let out a gasp, when Michael actually turned his attention to me, watching me leave.

Once we were in the hall, Loomis' game of 20 questions started. "Did Michael hurt you? I heard you say he was being mean."

"No, he just pulled my hair accidently." I couldn't help from giggling, Dr. Loomis was way too paranoid.

"Pulled your hair? He moved?"

Oops, shouldn't have let that slip. Michael would probably be angry with me later.

"Yeah, not much though."

"I wish he'd be more open with your friendship. If I could only get him to talk about you, about anything. He'd be so much easier to deal with." Loomis realized he'd been speaking aloud. "Ah, sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with such trivial matters."

His tone held lamented feelings, this was time to pry into his personal affairs. "Do you hate Michael?" My voice was innocent enough.

It took him a moment to answer. "I wouldn't say hate. He's been rather difficult to deal with. Not saying a word, barely moving, staring at nothing. The other kids all seem to be afraid of him. Aside from you and now, Karen. If you would have been around when he was first admitted, I'm sure I would've had better luck with him. That and if his entire family hadn't been killed in that car crash. Poor child has been through hell. If he's lucky, the court will rule in his favor, and allow him eligibility for parole, and he'll actually be able to live his life. Perhaps, the two of you could help each other along? If they rule against him, he'll be lucky to see the outside world by the time he's 50. And then, the world will have changed so much, he wouldn't recognize it. You would have long moved on, and with his state of mind, that wouldn't be healthy for him."

Loomis stopped in his tracks. "Listen, Elaine, if there's anything you could do, to get him to start speaking, I'd appreciate you doing so. In seven years, if he doesn't speak, they courts will never take his side. The odds of me convincing them that he's permanently mute from such a traumatic event, is very low." Strange, first he didn't want me around Michael, now he wanted me to help him. It seemed the doctor wasn't sure on how he felt. He was sympathetic, just easily pushed over the edge.

"I'm not sure what I could do.. He kinda responds to me, but, I've never gotten a word from him."

The doctor smiled. "But, you've gotten more from him, than I have in my nearly eight years of working with him. And you got that within the first few months of interacting with him." He continued walking. "You know, when you get older, I'd recommend pursuing a career similar to my own. I believe you'd be very talented at it."

"If I can't help Michael… I'd still like to visit him. As you said, he doesn't have anyone. I'd hate for anyone to have to be alone in a place like this.. If I wasn't attached to him, I don't know if I'd be the same person. I think I would have just shut down, like he did."

Loomis put a hand on my shoulder. "You have a big heart. I think you saw the same loneliness in Michael. And that drew you to him, because, you didn't want him to feel like you do. And with all the rumors that spread about him, none of the other children spoke with him, or even sat near him."

I shook his hand off. "But, you believe those rumors…" A puzzled look lined my face. "Well, yes, I do. However, I don't seem to understand him the way you do. You don't fear him, you don't mind being close to him. Closer than I like being to him. You've snuck out, following him quite a few times. With and without Terence's assistance."

My eyes widened. "N-no I haven't!" I protested.

A chuckle. "There are cameras pointed at the ward's door's and the nurses stations. We know everyone who likes to sneak , Michael and you, Nancy with James. A few other children you didn't get a chance to meet. Carpenter seems to believe that "kids will be kids" and as long as none of you get hurt or into trouble, he doesn't mind you guys secretly meeting at night. Each event is, however, marked in your official reports. So, do try to keep that in mind."

Finally, I was back at the girls ward.

Nancy and Samantha were surprisingly sitting next to each other. Once the doctor left, they resumed their conversation.

"I'm serious, Nancy, you need to stop teasing Michael." Samantha warned, the look on her face grim.

Nancy shrugged her shoulders. "Why? Someone needs to put him in his place. Have you seen how he's been staring at me lately? During breakfast, lunch, dinner? It's creepy. Not everyone is going to put up with that. Starting with me."

Samantha scoffed. "You aren't understanding me. This isn't just because you're being mean! It's far more than that! Far more than you could ever understand…"

"Let me guess, it has something to do with that vision you had two years ago, when you told me I was going to die, by Michael's hand?"

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed. "It is exactly that!"

Nancy stood, flipping her hair back. "You realize you're crazy, right? That's why you're supposed to be taking your medicine."

"What I see can't be stopped by some stupid sugar pill!"

Nancy walked back into the main room. "Yeah, yeah, sure, I'll stop teasing the boogeyman."

Another scoff from Sam. "Ugh, she doesn't realize how right she is…"

I sat on my own bed. "Maybe… Maybe there's a way we can pull her into the dreams we have? If she dreams about Michael killing her, that could be a wake up call. "

Samantha shook her head. "That's easier said than done. The only thing I can think of is asking Dr. Wynn… And he doesn't seem to know about the dreams. I'd rather not have him experimenting on us, if he were to find out. I suppose, you could also ask Michael himself. You said he remembered the dreams right?"

"Yeah, he does. He remembers exactly what he did to me…"

"I don't understand why you still want to be friends with him. He's the vessel of evil." Samantha didn't exactly get over how violently he'd killed her. Or rather, how he made me kill her.

"His middle name is Audrey. He can't be all that bad. I mean, Michael Myers sounds kinda intimidating, but throw in his middle name, Michael Audrey Myers, sounds kinda sweet."

She raised a brow. "That is very flawed logic."

We both laughed.

Truthfully, I liked the name Audrey. It sounded sweet, yes, but, combined with Michael's own name, it seemed as if there was a hidden darkness. Maybe it was just Michael himself that made me think that.

Samantha cleared her throat. "Anyway, tonight, when we go to sleep, as much as I hate saying this, especially for Nancy, we should concentrate on Michael, see if we can somehow pull ourselves into his world."

That evening, both Samantha and I had asked for an extra sleeping pill, saying that we'd been having trouble staying asleep. They were given to us. But, only for one night. Which was enough.

I was laying on my left side, staring at the mark, which was barely illuminated by the moonlight. Taking a breath, and clenching my fist, I tried focusing on Michael, wondering if my mental call would even reach him? If we could call him as he called us.

Thanks to the medicine, I was fast asleep.  
And then, awake. In Haddonfield.

Laying next to the police car's, with their lights flashing, right in front of his house. He was standing on the sidewalk, facing his house, knife in one hand, mask in the other.

"Michael?" I called out. He didn't seem to be too harmful when his mask wasn't on.

Making my way to my feet, I slowly walked towards him, calling his name again. Still no response. Once reaching him, I stuck my hand out, only to be blinded by a bright light.

Children in costumes were everywhere. Cars driving slowly down the street, no sign of the police, no signs of Michael. Was I still in the same place? The house was no longer in disrepair. It was painted nicely, decorated for the holiday, a jack-o-lantern on the porch railing.

"Ugh, yeah, I know, Danny, we'll have to wait until after trick-or-treating before we can fool around. If Michael's babysitter hadn't of bailed, we could do what we wanted…" A girl, brown hair and a few years older than me was having a conversation, with a dark haired boy, around the same age as her, just around the corner of the house.

"Weren't you supposed to take him trick-or-treating? Leaving the candy bowl on the porch?" The boy questioned.

"There's no way I'm hanging out with that little creep! He's fine on his own!" She responded, rather offended.

"Yeah, okay, well, I'm not gonna wait around all day, getting interrupted every second, so I'll see you around nine? Maybe earlier if I get bored."

She rolled her eyes, heading around the house and up to the front door. "You're such a smooth talker, Daniel. You'll be lucky if you get any tonight."

The boy shrugged. "Why would I bother coming back, then?"

"Oh, please, you know I can't resist you." She reached inside, throwing a candy bar at him, before closing the door.

A group of kids walking down the street, made their way up to the door, ringing the bell, using the familiar motto of, "Trick or treat!" The woman from before opened the door, standing there with a smug look on her face. "What would you do if I didn't give you any candy?"

The kids were silent, allowing a boy standing near the front, in a clown costume to speak. "We would kill you."

The voice was younger, but, still recognizable.

"Michael! That isn't funny, I'm going to tell mom and dad when they get home!" There was a look of fear in her eyes. The child replied: "I am not Michael Myers, I am a clown." The woman proceeded to give every child, aside from Michael, candy. Shooing him away with the words: "Go be creepy somewhere else."

"Michael!" I hollered to no avail. No one reacted to my present. I was being shown a significant event in his life. The moment's leading up to his sister's death.

The sky grew darker, Michael returned home, Danny returned to the house soon after. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves through the air, and chilling me to the core. I heard voices echoing from inside the house.

"Better make this quick, my parent's will be back at 10."

"Are you sure?"

I started making my way around the house, a window on the side was open, allowing me to hear their conversation easier.

"We're alone aren't we?"

"Michael's around somewhere. Who cares?"

The two from before were making out on the couch.

Leaves crunched behind me, turning, I saw a younger Michael, still in his costume, making his way to the back of the house. Still, he didn't notice me. So I followed him to the back, as he slowly opened the back door, leaving it wide open. He made his way to the kitchen counter, opening a drawer and removing a large knife.

Walking through the house, he hid behind the corner in the living room, as the guy made his way down the stairs.

"I gotta go."

"Will you call me tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

"You promise?"

"Yeah."

As soon as he left, and the girl returned upstairs to her room, Michael made his way up the stairs, moving slowly quietly. My footsteps didn't seem to matter, but still, I waited until he moved to follow. Just in case.

He moved down the hall, not making a sound, peaking in her room, seeing her completely naked, at her vanity, the same one I'd seen the mark smeared across. He stopped, walking into the connecting bedroom, picking up his clown mask, placing it over his eyes, moving into the room.

Sensing someone behind her, the girl spun around in her chair, quickly covering her breasts.

"Michael!?"

He lunged forward, stabbing her, she tried protecting herself, only getting deep cuts across her wrists. She began screaming.

"Michael! No! Stop!"

Soon after she collapsed, nearly lifeless, unable to speak. Michael was breathing heavy.

Taking a step back, the floorboard suddenly decided to creak, causing Michael to stand, turning to look at me, before lunging in my direction. Quickly, the house returned to it's worsened state, as Michael's hand wrapped around my throat. The 14 year-old Michael, the one I was familiar with.

He forced me back, leaning me over the railing, the wood was creaking over the weight. I desperately grabbed his shirt.

"Michael!" The woman's voice from before shouted, her bloodied body leaning against the bed. His attention snapped to her, letting me drop, thankfully not throwing me over the railing.

He turned back towards the bedroom, allowing me to get back on my feet, and scurry away from him.

I heard a thump, her body had hit the floor.

Again he looked at me, seemingly not sure what he should do. I needed to talk to him.

"Hey, I didn't mean to invade your personal space… I didn't realize this was even possible." Would explaining the situation even work? "I missed you.. I wanted to see you so badly, in a place where we could be ourselves…"

He started walking towards me, plunging his knife into the banister at the top of the stairs. I backed up, against the wall. His hands gently caressed my face, before withdrawing, reaching for his mask, slowly taking it off.

"Elaine!" Samantha's voice called from downstairs. She was in the doorway.

Michael freaked out, reaching over for his knife, swinging wildly at me. I managed to duck under his arm, running down the steps.

I looked back, gazing into his blank stare. He showed no emotion, yet, I could feel his anger. He felt betrayed.

The scar on my wrist burned.

Examining the mark, it appeared to be faintly glowing a dark red color. Michael started down the stairs, gripping his knife tight. His mark had the same aura.

"Oh God, you two are more connected than you could know…" Samantha mumbled, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the house, down the street.

We stopped upon hearing a voice. "Sam, Elaine?"

The voice belonged to Nancy. She was standing on the sidewalk, looking confused.

"Where are we?"

"I don't think our plan is going the way we originally thought…" Samantha glanced behind us, seeing if Michael was near. "Alright, we need to warn her, but, we also need to make sure she doesn't get too suspicious." I nodded.

"Nancy, what are you doing here?" Samantha was first to approach. The searing pain on my wrist distracted me.

Nancy was shivering, the cool wind getting the better of her. "This place is creepy."

"Yeah, well, that isn't our worst problem. He's angry."

"Who?"

As if on cue, Michael made his appearance, just down the sidewalk, actively walking towards us. His stride, faster than humanly possible. He was definitely upset.

Immediately, Nancy recognized him, and seeing the knife gripped in his hand, a frown forming on her lips as she took a step back, shaking her head in denial. "Th-there's no way.." Before we could say another word, she took off in the other direction.

"Well, at least she has the right idea." Samantha nervously laughed, before following Nancy's lead. I wasn't far behind, prying my gaze from Michael, following the two girls down the street.

I knew he was after me. Even though this was meant as a warning to Nancy, I didn't want Samantha to end up getting between Michael and I. So, instead of following them, I crossed the street, headed back the opposite way. He didn't hesitate in changing his course to match my own.

Rounding the corner of a house, running through to the back yard, ducking behind a shed, I slowed my pace, reverting to walking, taking slow steps. Waiting for any sign that he was near, the crunching of leaves, his breathing, anything. Carefully, I also took care not to create much noise. Pausing, I steadied my breath, slowly recovering my stamina.

Had I actually lost him? It couldn't be.

After a few minutes, hiding behind these houses, with no sign of him, I started to get nervous, body shaking, I couldn't keep myself still. My heel broke a tree branch, causing a bird to fly away. Backing away, I bumped into a solid surface, nearly screaming, before realizing it was just a tree. My mind was in a frenzy, not able to figure out where I wanted to go, where Michael was, if the others were safe.

The breeze chilled to the bone.

I decided to make my way back to the main road, maybe I'd finally see Michael, or Samantha, even Nancy would be a nice sight right now. Still the same stillness.

This was his game. He planned to drive me insane.

My wrist tingled, the pain stabbing like needles. It radiated, from slight pain, to burning, to dull. I didn't know what the different pains signified. I knew it wasn't how close **he** was to me. His distance didn't seem to matter.

Frustration was growing, I must've wandered around the town multiple times. Up and down the streets, through the houses, behind the houses. All except Michael's. Looking at that house made me want to run, to get as far away as possible. I was standing on the sidewalk, staring at it. At the same time, the house made me angry. He was waiting inside for me. I knew it. There was no other place.

A rage built inside my heart, my body growing warm, focused on finding him. Death here wasn't permanent, and finding Michael was the only way to calm myself.

Inhaling, I used the anger and fear inside me to scream his name. If he didn't know where I was before, he did now. The burn spread, feeling as if it was ripping through my skin, traveling up my arm, and through my body. I dropped to my knees. He knew where I was after all.

My vision was went dark, adjusting to new surroundings.

The next thing I saw was stone steps leading down, curving to the right. A basement of some sort. A knife was brought up, examined carefully, testing its sharpness, a slice across the thumb, drawing blood.

This wasn't my vision.

The figure started moving down the steps, slowly, there was no echoing taps. I could hear pained gasping, quick breathing, weeping. Someone else was down there. Trapped with him.

His pace quickened, making his way around the giant furnace, where a girl was leaning, against the wall, he looked down to the floor, dark droplets on the ground. Blood. The girl turned around, jumping in shock when she saw him. It was Nancy. She calmed herself down quickly.

There was a gash across her collarbone. "Oh, it's just you… He didn't follow you, did he? Is he upstairs?"

The knife was lifted again, and her face went pale. "E-Elaine? N-no...You're with him aren't you?" She backed away, limping.

She called out my name? But, there was no way….

A pained yelp. "I should've known…"

The knife was swung downwards, narrowly missing her as she dashed for the stairs. There was no point, she wasn't fast enough. Nancy's leg was grabbed, pulled backwards, busting her jaw on the steps. The knife was plunged in her back several times.

Looking up, to the top of the stairs, I saw Samantha, staring down in horror. "Oh god…." She turned to run, but was met by Michael, his hands around her neck, lifting her into the air. Her gasps were horrid to listen to. When he was satisfied, he dropped her, a sickening crack rang out as he twisted her head.

It really was me who killed Nancy.

I made my way up the stairs, trying to figure out how to regain control. There was no struggle. I couldn't feel a thing, as I obediently walked straight to him.

Michael held out his hand, and willingly, I gave him the knife. He then circled me, placing his hand on my shoulder, jamming the knife in my gut.

When I woke, I was laying on the cold grass, staring up at the sky, still within the dream.

What could I do?

Why did I think that infiltrating the place was a good idea?

I had to stop him, keep him from hurting the others. It was me he was after, me he was angry with. There's no reason for the others to suffer.

"Michael?" An adult male's voice called in confusion.

A woman gasped. "There's blood on the knife!"

Sitting up, I looked around, seeing the younger version of Michael, with two adults. Presumably his parents.

Confusion overtook me as well. Was I being shown more?

"Get the knife away from him!" The man shouted running inside. There wasn't a struggle for the weapon, Michael dropped it as soon as his mother reached out. "Michael, what happened? Please tell me! Is Judith okay? Did Danny come over? Did he do something bad?" The woman was frantic, not wanting to believe that Michael would do anything harmful to his sister, as any mother would.

Judith's bedroom light flicked on, once the father made his way up to her room.

"Judith!" His scream was easily heard. He ran back downstairs, his footsteps stomping through the house, immediately getting on the phone. He called the operator, contacting the police, and repeating the call, this time for an ambulance.

The mother ran inside, pulling Michael by his hand, interrupted by the father running back up the stairs.

"What happened!?"

"Stay downstairs with Michael. Call, Janice, have her come pick him up."

Standing, I wandered over to the house, stepping in the door, just to have everything, once again, fall back into it's decrepit form.

Fingers brushed across my back, sending a shiver down my spine. When I turned, no one was there. I was even more uneasy. The pattern had been the same I used with Michael, earlier today. He wasn't going to easily let this grudge go.

A shriek echoed from down the street. It was Nancy.

Leaving the house, I hastily made my way down the street, towards the scream. Samantha was with her, helping her walk. "How was I supposed to know that freak tied a knife to the gate?" Her leg was cut, blood pouring out of the wound. "Why can't I wake up?" Nancy's voice was a desperate whine.

"Michael hates you. Because of your teasing, that's why you're here. You need to stop."

She cried out again. "Great way for my conscious to give me life lessons…"

"Sam!" I hollered, staying a few feet away from them. She turned, eyeing me suspiciously.

Nancy looked horrified. "Uh, why are we standing here? She's with him!"

"No, no, I think she's fine." Samantha assured her.

Nancy pushed her away. "Are you fucking serious? She killed me!" She backed away, leaning against a shed for support. "There's no way I'm letting her near-" Her sentence was cut off, Michael turned around the corner grabbing her shoulder, and slicing her neck open.

Samantha turned, hearing Nancy's gasp, not knowing what happened. I rushed forward, grabbing Sam's hand, pulling her behind me, taking the impalement for her.

"R-run!" I didn't need to tell her twice.

The dull throbbing was joined by the same burn I usually felt on my wrist. He cocked his head, before pulling the knife from my gut and pushing me to the ground, headed after Samantha.

This time I didn't die. As I lay there, the pain lessened. I moved my hand over the wound, and felt nothing but torn fabric. Bringing my hand up to my eyes, I saw there was no blood.

Quickly I rose to my feet, running, headed the same way Samantha and Michael had gone.

Again, it had circled around to his house, she was trapped, pinned against one of the cop cars. He was too close for her to make a run for it. I had to help.

"Michael!" I screamed, causing his head to twitch my way. Sam took a step, so did he. "Michael, I'm the one you want!" Again, he hesitated. "Take your anger out on me." I softened my voice. Samantha tried moving again, only to have her arm caught.

I needed to think of something. Looking around, there was a trash can at the curb, the bag had been ripped open, allowing a glass bottle to fall out, now lying shattered on the road. I grabbed the biggest piece. "Come on, Mike, I won't make it easy for you."

Slowly, his gaze shifted to me. Begrudgingly, he let Sam's arm go. She quickly distanced herself.

"You can't fight him, he'll just get back up!"

"Just run!"

His eyes bore into my own, they were darker, lacking their usual sky blue color. There was nothing in his eyes. Emotionless and barren.

My mind was begging me to run. The rage inside him was more than I'd seen before. It was purely and simply evil. I already knew that his intentions weren't kind, but, seeing those eyes. The devil's eyes, reconfirmed my suspicions.

I gripped tighter on the glass. I was absolutely insane, thinking that I even stood a chance against Michael. Of course I wouldn't win, I wouldn't even be able to defend myself against that mass of darkness. The feverish tremor returned. My eyes didn't dare look away. He was too fast, I didn't want to lose his whereabouts. My knees grew weak, the longer we stared each other down. Running was no longer an option, he'd catch me. We were too close.

Michael made his move, taking a step closer, his hand extended, reaching out. My heart, pounded in my ears, I had to try something. Swinging the glass, I aimed for his shoulder, hoping to do some damage to his rotator cuff.

He caught my hand, forcefully crushing the glass, squeezing my fist around the shard, turning his head, examining my hand, watching as the blood began to spill. The glass deepening the slices. I hadn't felt the pain, until seeing the blood.

My palm stung. Michael's grip was too tight, I wasn't able to drop the glass, each time my muscles moved, he just crushed my hand.

This probably wasn't a good idea, however, it was the only plan I could form. I used his grip on my hand, to pull myself closer to him reaching for his mask. Immediately, his hand, set mine free, pushing me into the trash cans, causing me to tumble to the ground. At least I'd let go of the glass.  
I didn't even want to look at the wounds.

Looking up, he still loomed over me. I tried to scramble to my feet, Michael rose the knife, ready to strike, swinging downwards, I squeezed my eyes shut.

Light shone through the window. I awoke in the girls ward.

The days after were awkward, neither Michael or Nancy would look at me. Samantha was weary. Dr. Loomis was suspicious. Dr. Wynn started watching me, he noticed how Michael and I didn't seem to be seeing eye to eye. He never approached me.

Two weeks before Halloween, the juvenile ward was called to a meeting, by Carpenter and Wynn. They announced that they would be having a Halloween party this year. Loomis was livid and started multiple arguments with both of the men.

I overheard one.

"On that night, of all nights? Don't you realize the chaos you will cause!?"

"Calm down, Samuel. Your prize patient is barely more than a vegetable! You're overreacting!"

"Do you truly believe he had nothing to do with those deaths?"

"Those deaths?"

"Adrian's was an accident, because the facility was left unsupervised.  
Blair slit his own wrists.  
Matthew's was a suicide, he drove off a cliff for God's sake.  
Anthony hanged himself.  
Mason's entire family was run off the road.  
And Roger killed himself. Biting out his own tongue."

"Do you really believe that Michael, a boy who barely moves did something like that?"

Of course, Loomis had a response to each death.

"Adrian was killed after he ate Michael's cake.  
Blair was too similar to him, and Michael removed the competition.  
Matthew was influenced to kill himself for leaving the building!  
Anthony was strapped into his bed, unable to move!  
And there was no evidence that Mason's family car was struck by another vehicle, it simply veered off the road. Perhaps he was influenced too?  
And Roger, his tongue wasn't removed by his own hand."

"And you have Tony, Samantha and Elaine. Stabbed, burned."

Carpenter scoffed, slamming his hand on the desk.

"Loomis, do you not hear how insane you sound? Michael influenced two people to kill themselves? He branded two of the female patients? Roger admitted to attacking Tony and Tony agreed. Elaine is the closest thing Michael has had to a friend in all his years here. He wouldn't harm her, and there is nothing he could've gotten ahold of to even make such a mark."

Loomis grew increasingly frustrated, slamming through the door, before looking back at Carpenter. "If another patient dies, then the blood will be on your hands!"

Dr. Hill had rushed to comfort him. She told him that she agreed with his decisions, but, neither of them would be able to argue with Carpenter. Loomis seemed worried. About the party, about Michael. Dr. Hill told him that Michael was a hopeless case, and that she was the center of his world now. Showing her ring off. That seemed to calm him down.

However, the two shot a glance down the hall. Seeing Dr. Wynn and I, in front of his office, acting as if we hadn't heard a thing.

"Elaine." Wynn called, my attention snapped up to him. "You and Michael haven't been very friendly lately. Is it because you know?"

"Know wha-"

He interrupted me. "Who he's going to kill next, of course."

.

.

.

"Yes."

 **To be continued….**


	8. Night of Evil

_**Chapter 8: Night of Evil**_  
 _ **-2 Weeks before Halloween-**_

"As you know, Dr. Loomis is interested in your relationship with Michael. Well, more concerned. He's noticed the two of you haven't been spending any time together in the last few weeks. Did something happen? Some kind of argument, or fight, that we should know about?"

I'd pretty much stopped answering Loomis' questions. They always centered around, Michael. And now, he was getting his answers through, Dr. Hill. It was hard to figure out what Loomis was thinking. His emotions changed as quickly as Michael's own. One day he wanted to help, next he didn't. Had his obsession with Michael really warped him so much?

Sighing, I reluctantly decided to give Dr. Hill an answer. "Something's wrong with Michael. One of the times we met up, he just wasn't himself, acting like he was sick, like his head hurt or something. He hasn't been the same since, and I don't know how to help him."

She raised a brow. "You realize you have no obligation to help him. That is our job."

"I'm sorry but, none of you have been able to reach him. Dr. Loomis told me himself. I've gotten more reaction from him than anyone here."

"That still doesn't mean that you have to watch out for him. You are in no way his caretaker. Though, I know, Sam may have planted that idea in your mind. He has everyone's best intention at heart, and, yes, we do realize that you've been able to accomplish much more with, Michael, than any of us have."

I looked down, tracing the mark on my wrist. "Michael is still my friend. I know I don't have to do anything for him, but, if I don't try, who will? You all sound like you've given up on him. Both you and Dr. Loomis referred to him as a lost cause."

"Elaine." There was a motherly tone to her voice. "Sweetheart, I know how you feel about him-"

"But, you don't!" I raised my voice.

This time she sighed. "Trust me, I do." She walked around her desk, moving closer to me. "When I was younger, just an intern, I didn't start working with children. I worked with adults, and while I was shadowing my trainer, we visited this young man, only a few years younger than me, his name was Jacob. Each visit, I felt more and more drawn to him. There was a point where I believe that I was in love with him. I knew he wasn't mentally stable, and I didn't care. I wanted to do everything in my power to help him. He got me close, used me as a hostage, killed two guards, and was killed himself by another guard. Don't let Michael lure you in, who knows what his ulterior motives could be."

"Neither of you want him to see outside of these walls, do you?"

"Maybe, that's for the best. He refuses to interact with anyone aside from you. He can't function outside of this place. And it would be unfair to ask that of you. When you leave, it'll be a whole new world for you as well."

My hands clenched. "If I shut down, like him, will you abandon me too?"

She frowned. "You are so different, want to get better, you make strides to recover. It's a completely different story. " Dr. Hill leaned against her desk. "I'm not supposed to say anything about this, but, I'm prepared enough to convince the judge to pardon your actions, since you acted in self defense. You'll be released on your 18th birthday. And, this is a secret, but, I think you need something uplifting right now." A smile beamed across her face. "You're lucky. You won't be thrown into the world, blindly. A few days before your release, Chelsea is going to sign a few papers, making you her charge. You'll be able to move in with her."

"Chelsea? Why would she do that?' I questioned aloud.

"She grew attached to you."

 **-**

It was mid-afternoon, I was sitting in the common room, staring out the window. Aimlessly.  
A heavy footfall approached. "What is it, Dr. Wynn?" I replied, unmoving.

"You recognized me, did you pick that skill up from Michael?" I pointed to the reflection in the glass. "You were easy to spot."

"So I was." He sat down next to me. "Are you ever going to tell me who's next?"

"No."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Michael is angry. If I told you, he may decide you're next instead."

He crossed his arms and legs. "And, do you believe you're safe from him?"

"If I wasn't, you'd have one of us transferred. I'm part of your plan, remember?" I hissed in reply.

"You have picked up a few things from him."

My head snapped to him. "What do you want, Doctor?"

A wicked grin appeared on his face. "You two are more alike than you'd like to believe, Elaine." With that he stood, walking away.

As his steps faded, a new set came up. I glanced in the window panes again, seeing that it was Loomis. Another sigh left my lips.

"You don't seem too happy."

"And why should I be? This place is horrible."

Loomis sat next to me this time. "I skimmed through your session today."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you did."

"Michael will be taken care of. I know you have your worries." The doctor reached out, grabbing my wrist. "I would like to talk more about this mark. I know you can tell me more."

"There's nothing I can tell you. Not here."

"You said Michael didn't do this. But, you don't want to say anything in this building. So, it was someone here, correct?"

I pulled my arm away. "How could it be anyone else? Is security so low that strangers can just walk in and brand the patients?"

Loomis looked thoughtful. "I feel as if you're giving me hints. But, you aren't giving me enough."

"My scar is on the opposite arm as Michael's. Whenever we held hands, it was these hands we used. There isn't anything else I can tell you. It should be simple enough to figure out."

Wynn kept trying to force Michael and I together. He helped us both sneak out of our wards. I didn't understand how Loomis wasn't figuring that out. To me it was obvious. But, Loomis and Wynn were close friends, despite their arguments. They'd known each other for years. Since Medical school.

"Yes, you've told me that, riddle before."

"Sam!" Dr. Hill called, a hint of urgency in her voice. Both of us turned to look, Michael was standing just a few feet away. No doubt, sent by Wynn, to keep Loomis from prying.

"Michael, would you like to spend some time with, Elaine?" He stood. Michael didn't move. Loomis looked back to me. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah."

Dr. Loomis made his way across the room, meeting up with Dr. Hill, watching as Michael finally moved, sitting next to me, his gaze straight to the window. Watching the doctor's movements through the reflections.

Wynn was right when he said I'd learned a few things from Michael.

His hands tightly grasped the edge of the bench, knuckles turning white.

"You're still angry, aren't you?"

He closed his eyes. Gathering himself, I suppose. I placed my hand over his, my fingers curling around his own. His gaze darted over to me, glaring at me from the corners of his eyes.

"Sorry."

I felt the tension in his hand release a little, quickly, I moved my hand under his fingers. Again, his grip loosened, taking my hand in his own, crushing my fingers as soon as he got the chance.

The light blue still hadn't returned to his irises. They remained a dark grey. Still, his eyes were somehow pretty. Like storm clouds. There was probably some hidden metaphor for that.

He glanced back up at the window. No one had moved, but, the doctors were intently watching us. Finally, he released my hand, not wanting the doctors to catch wind of my pained expression. Before he had a chance to withdraw his hand, I grabbed his arm, my thumb tracing over his scar.

"Does it ever hurt?" My voice was low enough, no one could hear what I asked. His hand clenched again. I couldn't tell if he was answering the question, or telling me to back off. I decided to back off, just in case.

Michael waited patiently, Loomis and Hill eventually left, taking care of other matters. As soon as they were out of sight, he got up, walking away. I followed him, hoping we could have a semi-private moment to talk things through. Even though I'd be the only one talking.

He was headed back to the boys' ward. Predictable.

"Wait!" I hollered, trying to catch up. Michael stopped abruptly, causing me to bump into him, as I had so many times before. He turned, grabbing my shoulders and shoving me down.

"What the hell is your problem?" Bending down, he grabbed my shirt collar, pulling me to my feet. I breathed in a shaky breath, "Michael, let go."

His stare, as blank and as unnerving as ever. I was being examined. Michael was trying to figure out what to do with me. Would he allow someone, who acted so boldly around him to live, or would he mutilate me, as he had all the others? He shoved her back, once again, this time, she managed to catch herself.

"Why don't you do it? If you have to spend time contemplating my fate, why don't you just kill me? What is stopping you?" The words just fell out. I wanted to know why I was always spared, despite how brutal he was towards me, in those dreams?

Again, all he gave me was a grin. "You're so infuriating, you know that?" I scoffed, turning, to walk away. If he wanted to go hide in his ward, he could do so. I'd go my own way too. I could feel the smugness beaming from him. His goal accomplished. I glanced behind me, wondering if he was still staring at me, but, he was gone.

Playing hide and seek yet again.

"Elaine!" Dr. Loomis called, heading towards me from the common room. "Why are you back here, you know-"

I interrupted. "Yeah, I know, I'm not supposed to be back here. I followed Michael, something's bothering him." It was easy enough to throw the doctor a lie, though, it would most likely end up ticking Michael off. He deserved to be pestered by Dr. Loomis, after the way he acted. "I'm guessing he didn't speak to you. It's just another _feeling_ of yours?"

"If I tell you something's wrong with Michael, I mean it. I don't think it's fun to make up rumors about other patients, I'm not Nancy." My retort should be good enough. The doctor let out a sigh. "Yes, child, I know. But, that is why it's important for you to alert the doctors, if he became violent, and attacked you, help could be minutes away!"

"Come now, let's return to the others." He commanded, standing aside, waiting for me to pass.

As soon as we reached the common room, he asked Dr. Hill to keep an eye on me, while he walked back towards the boys' ward.

The evening hours were soon upon Smith's Grove. I'd strangely grown tired. Normally, I fell asleep around an hour after lights out, at 10pm. Today, it was barely 7pm, and I felt as if I hadn't slept in days. It was a miracle I made it through dinner.

A few minutes after dinner, I approached Dr. Hill, lying, telling her that I didn't feel good, and that I wanted to go to bed early. She had no issue with getting my medicine from the nurses station, so I'd sleep soundly through the night. Telling her I was just tired, would have resulted in her asking me quite a few questions, making sure my lethargy wasn't because of my depression. Tonight, I'd rather avoid all that.

I curled up in bed, throwing my blanket over my face, keeping the light out of my eyes, before falling fast asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in that familiar bedroom. A small flame flickering, providing barely any light. My arms were folded over my chest, as I lay on my side, staring at one of the pumpkins, strangely the gourd seemed to be melting, rather than the candle inside.

"Nice trick." I muttered to myself, still pretty drowsy.

Familiar footsteps crossed the room, the presence took its place, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching back, resting on my waist.

"Are you still mad at me?" Trying to roll over, my exhaustion got the better of me, causing me to slouch back to my original position. I groaned. "Why am I so tired?" Even in my dream I felt weak? What was wrong with me?

Left in silence. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him, so, I tried closing my eyes, just ignore whatever was happening in this world, and maybe, get some actual sleep.

It worked for a little while, until his hand grabbed my left wrist, pulling me towards him, and digging a needle into my skin. I only felt a small twinge of pain, with the first pick. He traced the scar, opening the wound.

"Why are you so weird?" My question was more of a grumble. Not able to fully process what was happening.

The needle pricked me again, this time I managed to jerk my hand away. A light chuckle followed. "You know, sometimes you're a dick. Actually, most times."

His face came into view, illuminated by the jack-o-lantern, no mask in sight. Maybe, tonight would be peaceful? Did he just want to spend time with her? Usually she was the one who approached.

Michael was just watching, as if fascinated by my mere existence. It also looked like he wanted to murder me. I could never really tell. All I knew was that I survived thus far.

I closed my eyes, hoping to shake off some of the drowsiness. When I opened my eyes again, Michael was lying next to me, arm around me, keeping me close. My face was buried in his chest, I couldn't tell if he was awake. If there was even such a thing as sleep in the world. His embrace was warm, I snuggled a little closer to him, grabbing his shirt, tugging. He took in a sharp breath, squeezing in return. Listening to the combination of his breathing and his heartbeat was almost therapeutic.

"Michael…" I breathed, continuing to nuzzle into him. Being so close to him was nice.

"Elaine? You need to wake up." The voice belonged to Wynn.

I forced myself awake, letting out a gasp. Wynn stood, a rather triumphant smile on his face. Seeing that I was alright, he started out the door, halting, glancing back at me. "Clean the marker off of your wrist. I don't want Samuel seeing it. "

My brow furrowed, not sure what he was talking about. I lifted up my wrist, after he was out of the room, only to see the words: "You're mine!" Scrawled over the Mark of Thorn. That was definitely something that I didn't want Loomis seeing.

Getting out of bed, I felt a little dizzy, my head hurt too.  
Maybe, I just slept wrong? After I started waking up, I'd feel better.

I made it to the bathroom, closing the door, without any interruptions from doctors or the other girls. Luckily it was just a small private room, so, I didn't have to worry about anyone walking in.

Again, I looked at the writing on my wrist. Maybe, it was his answer to my question yesterday? It was far more than a simple 'I like you'. I was spared, because I belonged to him. Wynn and Samantha both told me that I was bound to him. This was confirming the fact.

Turning on the sink, and grabbing the soap, I began to scrub the mark off, luckily it was only written in pen, and came off rather easily. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful I wouldn't have to explain where I'd gotten it.

Looking back up to the mirror, I saw Michael standing behind me. But, that was impossible, the door was locked. Quickly, I turned, ready to question how he'd gotten in, he wasn't actually there…. No one was in the room with me.

 **\- October 31st, 1971 - Halloween -**

Dr. Loomis was on edge, as the rest of the staff was preparing for the Halloween party later that evening. He'd spent most of the day between Carpenter and Wynn's offices, trying to convince them to call the party off. Or at the very least, have Michael excluded from it.

They both denied his requests, Carpenter even lashing out at him, saying something similar to "If you keep believing your delusions, I'll have you locked up in here!"

Michael seemed normal. He was out in the common room, sitting on the same bench. He seemed more like himself now, than he had in months.

That was, until I noticed him staring at Nancy. It was subtle, just from the corner of his eye, but, he was fixated on her. Every moment, he trailed her, watching. Until he saw me, observing his behavior. His gaze flickered to me accordingly, as if he were a small child, trying to convince their parents they hadn't done anything wrong.

Hesitantly, I sat next to him, taking his hand in mine. Our relationship grew stronger, since he'd left that note for me. I was his, and I was ok with that.

"Am I not pretty enough? Too young?" I teased, letting him know that I'd noticed how he watched his prey. There was no hope for her. It was just her fate to die. She wouldn't listen to reason.

He squeezed my hand. Karen glared daggers at me from across the room. She was behind this morning and didn't have the chance to sit next to Michael. That girl had become my rival, lucky for her, since I was already here, she wouldn't have to worry about swallowing, Michael's blood, or receiving Thorn.

I didn't know what Michael thought of her. He always moved to sit next to me, however, if I didn't want to sit next to him, he didn't mind her company.

"You know, when I'm older….." Heat traveled to my cheeks as I lowered my eyes. "I'll give you anything you want. " It felt weird to say things like that, but, I'm 13 now, I knew that a in few years, both he and I would crave one another. And, I was a bit worried that since, Karen was his age, she'd get to him before I could.

Michael loved seeing the jealousy on my face. That playful smirk, surfaced.

He scooted closer, raising the sleeve of my shirt, before taking out a pen, that he kept hidden, writing the word "Mine." across my scar, yet again. It had been something he was doing lately, and somehow, it was far less menacing than the first note.

"One day, I'd like to hear you tell me that I'm yours." Michael pulled his hand away, re-hiding the pen. I guess that wasn't happening.

"This night is going to be a disaster." Loomis mumbled, walking through the common room. "It's going to be fine, there's going to be five of us watching them, and Carpenter and Wynn will be around too. We can keep track of a few children. Get them all involved in some games, and it'll be tomorrow before you know it." Dr. Hill reassured him. "You're too good for me, Jennifer."

Michael's stare now held a maleficence. He held up his hand, just where I could see it, showing the number two.

"Alright, children! It's time to change into your costumes." Hill announced, walking to the center of the room. "I'd like for everyone to return to their dorms for this."

Loomis and Wallace were helping the boys get into their costumes, while Hill and Mary helped the girls. Samantha was trying to convince Hill that she was sick, and didn't want to attend the party. Nancy was taunting her, saying that she was scared of the costumes.

In a way, it was true. We were both worried that Michael's costume was going to be a bit too familiar. We were allowed to choose our costumes, and with his mindset, Samantha and I were certain he'd designed the mask from his dream.

After finally convincing Samantha to go out to the common room for a while, the two women began talking about the coming storm. From what it sounded like, the storm would likely hit in around an hour or two. That was part of the reason they convinced Samantha to return to the common room, they wanted to keep track of everyone in case the storm was severe.

I made mental notes of everyone's costume. If something did happen, I didn't want to guess friend from foe.

Amy was dressed as a fairy. Her costume was mainly pink. Homemade from her mother. Karen was a nurse, which wasn't going to do her any favors towards Michael, with how much he hated the doctors. I chuckled at that. Stephan was a vampire, which suited his reserved nature. Shawn was the devil, I was curious as to why the doctors had allowed him to choose such a costume, with everything that had gone down here. Leon was a cowboy, he did carry a bit of a southern accent, naturally. Nancy was also fittingly dressed, her chosen costume, was a witch. Samantha was a police officer and my chosen costume was a pirate.

Michael, was of course, a clown, and as we feared, his mask was the same as the one he wore in the dream world.

Surprisingly, the night was going well. Too well. Michael, was taking part in group activities, which freaked Samantha and I out. He didn't like the other patients. But, he wasn't making a move. Maybe, the doctors were watching him too closely? Maybe, he was waiting for his opportunity.

Dr. Hill was on Nancy's case, the entire time we played musical chairs, she'd been pushing people out of the way. And she wasn't pushing gently, she was knocking the others to the ground. She was pulled aside, and sternly lectured, and still, she proceeded to act like a brat. Nancy made her fatal mistake, carelessly, she pushed, Michael. She hadn't knocked him to the floor, like with the others, yet, it was enough for the doctors, particularly, Loomis, to freak out.

Loomis grabbed her by her arm, pulling her away, where he continued Hill's conversation from before. This time, it seemed to work, and she apologized to Michael.

Samantha grabbed my hand. "She's going to die…" Her whisper was just loud enough for me to hear. "We have to stay away from her…." I agreed.

The rain finally began to fall, thunder, cracking in the distance. Wind howling. The entire scenario gave me anxiety. Just waiting for something to happen.

As the other kids lined up to bob for apples. Samantha and I decided the game wasn't for us. Sam claimed that she still felt sick, and I said that I was a germaphobe, and didn't feel comfortable doing so.

Michael also sat out from this, across the room, the complete opposite side of Nancy's location.

Another crack of thunder, striking the building, causing the power to flash, before shutting off. The emergency generators were old, it would take a few minutes for the power to return. Giving him plenty of town.

"Nobody panic, it's okay. " Wallace hollered, a few of the patients were afraid of the dark. He was a smoker, so, he had a bit of a light source. Flicking open his lighter, giving us some light in the darkness.

Dr. Hill was right behind him, and upon approaching the basin of apples, the flame, illuminating a body. Nancy's body, still face first in the water. The two of them gasped, Wallace, dropped the lighter, catching Loomis' attention, he inquired as to what happened. Before either Hill or Wallace could answer, the lights were back on.

Nancy was dead, and it looked as if Michael hadn't moved. He was still sitting in the same place, almost oblivious. Loomis glared directly at him. He knew Michael had been sitting there, and he didn't have enough time to maneuver across the room, and somehow, silently kill her.

Drowning wasn't a quiet death.

"Get the children back to their wards.." His voice full of ire.

Wallace quickly pulled himself together, ushering the boys away from the scene. Mary took care of the girls. Dr. Loomis, grabbed Michael's arm, pulled him towards the offices, and Dr. Hill immediately got on the phone.

Everyone was given their medicine and sent to bed early. So the paramedics and doctors could do their work. Even with my sleeping medicine, it was hard to fall asleep. I tossed and turned, for a few hours. Dr. Hill came in around 10pm to check on everyone, making sure we were all asleep. I shut my eyes, pretending.

She sighed. "I feel sorry for, Elaine. What are we going to tell her?"

"We'll tell her that it was for her own safety. That Michael will just end up hurting her too." The second voice belonged to Loomis.

"She's going to fight us."

"I know…"

They left. I wanted to know more about their conversation…  
What was happening to Michael? Was he getting transferred like Loomis wanted?

Another hour passed, and still I was restless. I shut my eyes, hoping eventually I'd just drift off. That wasn't working either. With each passing second, I grew more and more frustrated. Why couldn't I just get some sleep.

A hand touched my shoulder, causing me to jump, turning to see who it was.

"Michael?" I sat up on the bed. "What are you doing here?" Placing his hand on my cheek, he leaned in, giving me a kiss. The smile on his face seemed sweet, genuine. It was anything but. He reached into his pocket, stabbing a needle into my neck. "Michael!" Immediately I felt fatigued, slouching back into the bed.

-

It was dark, taking a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. I was in the hall, leading towards the doctor's offices. Not walking through, but, observing through a different perspective.

"You're obsessed with your work, Samuel. You need another break."

"How many more will he kill? If I let that demon out of my sight, Jennifer, he will kill more and more."

"Enough, Sam. Stop blaming the boy. He wasn't near her. She slipped and hit her head. That's all. "

"It was no accident!"

"Your talent is wasted here. We're getting married in two months. I'd like my husband to have a successful, private practice. They will find someone else for Michael."

"I'm sorry, Jen, but, I need some air."

Dr. Loomis crossed the hall, headed towards the front. Someone moved quickly, passing just behind the doctor, causing him to pause, and glance back, seeing nothing. I watched Dr. Hill for a while, finishing some paperwork.

She stood from her chair, and the figure moved again, walking across the hall, catching her attention.

"Hey! I know you kids normally sneak out, but after what happened, you need to be in bed!" She hurried after the figure. It was too fast. She lost his trail.

They were near the boy's room, a quick peek in would tell her exactly who was missing. She gasped, seeing which bed was empty. "Michael…." She looked back down the hall, catching a glimpse of a shadow. Running down the hall, she rounded the corner, calling Michael's name again.

The figure was heading up the stairs, to the roof. Dr. Hill gasped, rushing after. "Stop! Whoever you are come-" The door was locked, she couldn't get it open.

Michael was outside, unsnapping his shirt, hanging it off the roof, keeping it pinned, allowing it to catch the breeze, failing in the wind. He walked over, releasing the hold on the door. Dr. Hill sprung through, not seeing him. He was hiding around the corner.

"Oh no…" Her voice was hushed, seeing the shirt, snagged on the parapet. Mistakenly, she got closer, and Michael followed, effortlessly pushing her over, watching her tumble down the roof, snapping her neck, and breaking her arm, impacting the ground.

He then took his shirt, putting it back on, and snapping it back up. That devious smirk playing on his lips. Michael wasn't wearing a mask.

Minutes later, Dr. Loomis returned, horrified at his discovery of his deceased fiancee..

 **To be continued….**


	9. Silence is Golden

_**Chapter 9: Silence is Golden**_  
 _ **\- November 1st, 1971 -**_

The next day, none of the staff seemed to worry about everyone getting up on time. They were in mourning. Dr. Hill, one of their most beloved doctors, had passed away. Her death ruled as a suicide, due to the stress of working in Smith's Grove.

I was a witness. Not personally, but, I saw everything that Michael wanted me to see. He'd even kissed me goodbye, knowing that Loomis would see to it that he was transferred to the adult ward. Wynn had no choice but to agree, due to the circumstance of Nancy's death.

No one was allowed in the common room. Loomis and the other doctors were interviewing each patient, seeing if anyone knew anything about Jennifer's death. If she showed any signs of suicidal tendencies, or seemed off at all. And, of course, Dr. Wynn had been the one to survey me.

"Elaine… I'm getting the feeling you know something. You didn't seem surprised, when the news was delivered. Tell me what you know." Wynn demanded.

I'd been sitting in his office for the last hour, and I hadn't said a word. I'd never be as good as Michael, but, I needed to try. I knew he wouldn't like me saying a word. And if I even tried to explain, I would be the only one getting into any kind of trouble.

Wynn frowned at my lack of response.

The door opened behind me. "You interviewed Elaine, right? Does she know anything?" Walking forward, Loomis noticed me, almost cowering in the chair.

"Well, Sam. I think you'll be rather unenthused to find out, that, Elaine has refused to say a single word."

The doctor's eyes went wide with fear. Wynn looked rather smug, he'd use this as a punishment for my refusal to tell him anything. He wanted to use me as a secret agent, in decoding Michael's mind, and I wasn't telling him a thing. "Terence, could I have a word with Elaine? I may be able to get something out of her."

"Of course." There was malice in tone.

Dr. Loomis led me to his office, staying quiet the entire walk. Once inside, he instructed me to sit in a chair. I obeyed.

He took a deep breath. "What is this hold Michael has over you, Elaine? Is he threatening you? You can tell me, I will help you!"

I kept my silence. No matter what questions he threw at me. I wouldn't speak about Michael, Nancy, Dr. Hill, or even myself. With each question, he grew more furious and concerned. Worried that I would follow the same path as Michael. "Please, child, you must answer me! Don't be like him!"

The new way he looked at me was frightening. It felt like he wanted to destroy me, before I became a carbon copy of Michael. My face wasn't as blank and emotionless as his, but, I was able to keep quiet. Question after question ignored, until he sent me back to the ward, where I sat on my bed, doing nothing. My gaze fixated on the window, though, my thoughts were lost in my mind, I hadn't actually been aware of what I was staring at.

After a while, I could hear Dr. Wynn and Dr. Loomis talking, standing in the doorway, observing me. Loomis was unnerved, when I turned to look at them. I sighed, eyes falling to the floor.

"She needs help. More help than we can give. You couldn't help Michael, but, you can help me save her, before she becomes like him!" He sounded pathetic, repeating his wishes to Wynn, begging for his support. Wynn only shook his head. "No. Elaine knows something. She saw something. She isn't Michael, you can see it in her actions. Refusing to keep eye contact, she looks at us with fear. And, with the way you've treated Michael, she likely believes we are going to torture her for information."

Wynn's accusations were too spot on. Torture me for information? That must've been his plan, if I didn't start talking.

"We'll give her some time to recover, before interviewing her again." Wynn added, walking away.

How much time would he be giving me? Maybe I could escape? Maybe, Michael could help me? Either way, he wasn't going to have his way. If Michael and I were his experiments, he should've figured out how to keep us in his control.

Once Loomis left, Samantha sat next to me, a worried expression lined her face. She had a pad of paper and a pen, quickly scribbling the words, "Don't tell them anything!" Of course I hadn't planned to. No matter what they did to me, I couldn't break. She wrote another note on the pad. "He's claimed you as his. They'd be foolish to harm you. You don't mess with the devil."

I was beginning to believe that Michael was the devil, or the antichrist, something, anything to explain the powers he had. The dreams, how he was somehow able to move about, like a ghost, the influence he had on people, whatever connection he and Samantha had. There had to be some explanation.

As time passed a lot changed about the ward. Michael was transferred to the Adult ward, and Dr. Loomis transferred with him, dropping every case he was managing, choosing to solely focus on Michael, issuing a 1:1, in fear of him being a threat to those around him. This meant he had to be within 15ft of a staff member, at all times.

Occasionally, Loomis would check on the juvenile ward, keeping track of his former patients' progress. He also made sure that I wasn't copying any more of Michael's behavioral patterns. I still refused to speak, but, I did communicate with the doctors, answering 'yes or no' questions. That was far more than what Michael ever attempted and it seemed to suffice for Loomis.

With Dr. Hill's death, and Loomis now working in the adult ward, I was transferred to Dr. Granell. She wasn't as attentive as Dr. Hill, nor, did she have the same motherly charm, but, I felt safe in her hands. She was helping me come to terms with my trauma, little by little.  
Though, with everything I've been through, I grew desensitized to my own trauma's. The image of my mother's skull, blow apart still haunted me from time to time, but, compared to being killed, and being forced to kill, it felt tame.

A lot of staff changes happened in the first few months, due to a lack of doctor's. Ridgemont were courteous enough to send two of their own to help out, until new staff could be hired.

Dr. Amy Winters and Dr. Richard Viars.  
Being from a maximum security facility like Ridgemont, they were a bit more strict, whipping the staff into shape. The nurses had no choice but to start picking up some of the slack, actually doing their jobs for once. Even Wallace had been helping out. They also implemented more time in solitary confinement, for those who wanted to act unruly, which lead to an improvement in everyone's behavior.

No one wanted to be alone anymore. Not after all the deaths that took place.  
Everyone was beginning to feel like prey. Like some unseen force was watching their every move, playing roulette with who made it out, and who died. This place was beginning to feel like hell to the staff and patients alike.

Nearly two year's had passed before I said another word. To the doctor's, at least. I craved human interaction, so, Samantha and I began sneaking out of the girls ward at night, having conversations in the shower rooms. We talked about Michael, and the dreams we were pulled into. They began occurring more frequently, about a week after he was transferred. Not all of them were survival related. Some of them, Michael just wanted to spend time with me. We'd been alone, just the two of us, lying on his mattress. He used those moments to bond with me, showing me parts of his life. Mainly, how he killed.

The scariest thing he showed me, was how exactly he killed Nancy.  
No one noticed him move from his seat across the room. Not even I had, and I was watching his every movement.  
As soon as the power went out, he just walked over to her, in front of Loomis, passed Dr. Hill and Wallace. Nancy had been aware of his presence, looking right at him, she didn't even try to scream when he knocked her out, holding her head under water, waiting for her breathing to stop, before leaving her there, floating, as he walked back to his seat, acting like nothing had happened. No one heard or saw anything. Though, Loomis suspected him.

With whatever bond Michael and I formed, he'd shown me a lot. What he's done. Each murder he committed, I saw. I wasn't sure how he accomplished any of it, he made me his silent witness.

Adrian was burned in the shower, Michael was reported to have been in the common room when the incident occurred. Again, he'd gotten up, and walked down the hall, into the shower room, hearing Adrian mumble utter nonsense, and he cut off the cold water completely, watching the water scald the boy, listening to him scream. After, he walked out, narrowly missing the nurse who was rushing in, hearing Adrian's screams: That was why shower's became a group activity.  
Sadly, Adrian hadn't died from the burns, and was left in a comatose state in the medical ward for weeks. Eventually, Michael snuck out, heading to the Med. ward, where he overdosed Adrian on Potassium. The autopsy revealed he died of natural causes.

Blair hadn't slit his own wrists like the reports document. His body was found mangled in the basement. Michael took his time beating him to death, with a replacement pipe, that somehow went missing. No evidence left behind. The EMT's believed that Blair was disturbed, throwing himself down the stairs multiple times, trying to break his own neck, before grabbing a box cutter, carelessly left out on a tool box, and slit his wrists. Michael was the one to cut his wrists open, leaving him to suffer, covered in bruises, fractured bones, and in a pool of his own blood.

Matthew, one of the nurses, seemingly left in the middle of his shift, and drove his car off a cliff. When in reality, he'd fallen asleep and was swept into one of Michael's dreams. He woke up, and saw Michael, standing in front of him, staring. Michael did attack him, but, the nurse was afraid, he made it out of the building. There was no answer as to why he was found at the bottom of a cliff, instead of alerting the authorities. Michael didn't have that answer.

Anthony had also been involved in Michael's dreams. Which was why he wanted to kill me. He saw how friendly Michael was towards me, and he knew I was his favorite. He grew to hate Michael and wanted to take any happiness he had. When he failed, he knew it was only a matter of time before Michael came for him. He waited patiently as Michael unstrapped him, and Michael gave him a chance to defend himself, but, Anthony lost, after being hit in the ribs by a medical tray, the pain immobilized him enough for Michael to choke him with a cord, leaving him just enough breath in his lungs to feel when Michael effortlessly tossed him over.

Mason's family was killed late one night, after being run off the road, Michael had been the driver. Apparently Dr. Wynn was teaching him how to drive. Wynn made sure the car was properly disposed of.

Roger's death was particularly violent. There was no reason behind it, he hadn't done anything to piss Michael off. He was just targeted randomly one evening, dragged out of bed, where Michael fought him, punching him in the stomach, and smacking his bottom jaw into the top, causing him to bleed, having bitten his tongue. He choked on his own blood, and Michael finished the job, severing his now swollen tongue.

I began theorizing a long time ago, that Michael showed me these things, made me kill in those dreams, because he wanted me to feel the same thrill he did. That had to be his cause.  
Samantha agreed with my theory. She believed that Michael sought acknowledgement, and I was just another person acknowledging what he was capable of.

One night in August, 1972 I made a mistake. Samantha and I had met up, but, the two of us were caught, by, Wynn's secretary, Dawn. As a cruel punishment from Wynn himself, she'd alerted not only Dr. Granell, but, Dr. Loomis that Samantha and I were talking about Michael, and how he was terrorizing our dreams. We were both sent back to the ward, but, Wallace had woken me up, escorting me to Loomis' office, where I was met by he and Granell.

There was quite the scowl across Loomis' face, seeing Wallace and I. He escorted me in, having me sit down on the chair, before leaving me to face the doctor's, alone.

"Have you been faking your condition, Elaine? Do you believe that this is some kind of game? It is our job to help you, we cannot do anything, if you don't tell us what's wrong!"  
Granell placed her hand on Loomis' shoulder. "Samuel, settle down." She glanced at me, before returning her attention to him. "She isn't faking her trauma. You know that. Elaine is just… confused. She and Jennifer were close, losing her has taken just as much of a toll on Elaine, as it has you. Please, understand that."

Dr. Loomis didn't want to listen to reason, but, he failed in thinking of a retort. He knew she was right. Dr. Hill and I formed quite the bond. "I-I know…" He finally replied, letting out a sigh.  
"Her trauma has only worsened. I believe not only what happened to her, but Jennifer's passing and mainly, Michael's influence has warped her mind."

It was a little awkward, listening to the two talk about me, as if I wasn't in the room. But, they probably knew I didn't want to talk to them.

Loomis looked over at me again, still frowning. "We can't help her, if she won't let us.

"You see, that's the thing. She isn't letting us." Granell placed her hand over a file lying on Loomis' desk. "In your reports, you've talked about her friendship with Michael. And, several times, you used the phrases "obsession" and "fixation", that's exactly what it is."

"And, what are you thinking?"

Granell took a deep breath. "You aren't going to like it." She paused, looking at me, then back at him. "She's obsessed with Michael, and unwilling to cooperate with us. I believe she may have developed a form of Stockholm Syndrome."

Loomis looked puzzled, folding his arms over his chest. "It's not like Michael's holding her captive…"

"No, but, she's showing several symptoms and behaviors of Stockholm victims. And she's following the pattern pretty well. Elaine developed positive feelings for him, when the other kids strayed away, she isn't cooperating with those who want to help her, and, she believes Michael is a good person. The only issue is…. Her past… It isn't normal for someone with a background like hers to fall into a hostage-captor relationship multiple times. Granted, she could be a rare case. "

"That would explain her sudden estrangement…" Loomis spoke, more to himself than either of us.

My eyes were darting between the doctors, wondering what they'd decide to do, if they'd throw more pills at me, or try to continue talking to me?

Loomis approached, sitting in a chair, across from me. "Elaine, please answer me honestly, how do you feel about Michael? I know you've said that he doesn't scare you, and that he hasn't hurt you, but, you've never truly told me how you feel, aside from the fact that you two are…. Friends."

"Michael…" I repeated his name, taking some time to think. Dr. Loomis seemed surprised that I had even spoken at all, probably assuming I'd just fall back into my silent state. "Well, I-I really like him. I feel… close to him." There wasn't much I wanted to say about our relationship. The warmth he brought whenever I thought of him, whenever he held my hand, or held me in his arms, or even when he kissed me. Those moments were between us only.

"Do you feel safe around him? Do you think that he'll harm you?" Was the next question, asked by Granell.

"I don't know. Maybe." That was the truth. With how brutally he'd killed me in the dreams, and how roughly he'd grab me, I wasn't sure if he'd hurt me. I did believe I was safer than anyone else. But, I was probably still at risk.

"What happens when you dream about him? Does he hurt you in your dreams?"

How would I get myself out of this situation? They were asking too much. Michael wouldn't be happy, I'd have to watch my wording. Or, I could make Loomis rather uncomfortable.

Lowering my eyes, I prepared to answer, figuring out what my lie would be. "I'd really rather not say." Loomis didn't seem ecstatic about my answer. He wanted details. "Elaine, you need to tell me. " My face was red, the warmth rushing to my cheeks, I took a deep breath before answering, keeping my eyes to the ground. "My dreams with Michael have been rather… Intimate." His face fell, not happy about my newest development. Loomis was frustrated, the last thing he wanted to deal with, was my attraction to a killer.

The room fell silent, as I figured. Dr. Loomis was now overloaded with information. It likely wouldn't be long until he sent me back to my room. I managed to avert Dawn's accusations of my dreams being about Michael hurting me, to dreams about Michael being intimate with me. Loomis put together that he hadn't been trying to kill me, but, taking on the persona of an aggressive lover, instead.

Dawn hadn't caught too much of our conversation, at least, it didn't seem so, unless she was purposely keeping Loomis out of the loop.  
Why was she even here this late? Normally she leaves around 7pm.

"Well, it is late, I will be stopping by to speak with you again, tomorrow, Elaine."

With that, Dawn was called, and she escorted me back through the halls. I could briefly hear Granell and Loomis talking, Loomis was heading home, he was already past his normal shift. Granell would be heading to the adult ward, to watch Michael, leaving Dawn and Wallace to watch the girls and boy's wards.

Once we rounded a corner, Dawn stopped, waiting for Granell and Loomis to take the elevators down. She grabbed my arm, keeping me from moving away from her. The elevator door closed, taking the doctors to the first floor. Her attention turned back towards me. "Dr. Wynn would like to meet with you." Reaching into her pocket, she took out a syringe. "Don't you dare make a sound." I tried jerking away, piecing together that she intended on taking me back to that room, where I'd received the Thorn mark.

As I was struggling to loosen her grip, a footfall echoed in the hall behind me. "Honestly, Dawn, you're too straightforward. You didn't have to tell her a thing." The voice belonged to Wynn himself. He placed his hands on my shoulders, helping to keep me still, while Dawn jammed the needle in my arm. Again, as with Michael, my consciousness faded immediately, before they'd even removed the needle from my arm.

This time was different, I was aware of what was happening, Dr. Wynn carried me through the halls, calling the elevator, I heard each individual chime as they waited for the elevator to arrive. And again when they reached their desired floor.

"We have at least another 20 minutes, before she wakes up." Wynn alerted Dawn. "Everything should be set up when we arrive. Dr. Loomis is gone, and Dr. Granell will be quite busy, handling Michael. And, Wallace has no need to check on the girls ward. He'll be concentrating on his own charge."

Wynn trapped me here, taking care of any potential escape route I had. Now, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

"Though, I do have a concern. When I found Elaine and Samantha, they were talking about strange dreams they'd been having, centering around Michael. It sounded like they believed he was controlling them.. Do you believe something like that's possible?" Wynn only scoffed in response. "Ridiculous. Samantha is just spreading her delusions."

My state of consciousness wasn't deep enough to even try calling Michael, or initiating the dreams. Whatever they injected into my system, kept me just aware enough to prevent deep slumber.

"Go back upstairs, I don't want Wallace getting curious, and if any of the girls wake up, to see you're not there, it will draw suspicion. I'd have to fire you for negligence. And I wouldn't want to lose someone as valuable as you." His last sentence was flirtatious. Dawn chuckled before sighing. "Alright, I'll head back. See you tomorrow, Terence." He and Dawn seemed to be involved. Maybe I could use that against them at a later date?

Wynn carelessly tossed me to the ground, I felt the impact, and would likely be sore in the morning, because of it.

"Jill, Markus, I require your assistance." Wynn called out, his footsteps fading from the room. "I trust the serum is ready?"

"Of course sir, but, if we keep introducing strange drugs to her system, in combination with the medicine she's already taken, we could kill her." An unfamiliar female voice answered, concern lingering in her tone. "So be it. If she dies, we will simply stage her death, make it seem like she broke into the nurses station, and overdosed, on anything she could get her hands on." Wynn replied coldly. "But, what of Michael? Elaine is his.."

"Elaine is just a toy to him. And just like all toys, when one is broken, we simply get the child a new one. We replaced Samantha, we'll just have to find a new candidate. Karen seems to be interested in him. "

"I'm not worried about finding a new surrogate, I'm worried about Michael. He likes her."

"What you perceive as kindness is nothing more than manipulation. He sees Elaine like an object, and objects are replaceable. That is enough, Jill."

The woman sighed, reluctantly agreeing with Wynn, knowing it was pointless to dispute her worries any further. "Sir, is it really wise to leave her lying on the floor? We should at least strap her to one of the chairs." Markus questions, walking near me. "Is she even moving? The girl can stay where she is, it's not like she knows the way out. We could find her before she reached the elevator. But, if it makes you feel better, you can strap her to the chair."

Markus nudged my shoulder with his shoe, causing my body to jerk away. "Yeah, I think she'll be coming to any moment. Better to tie her up." Picking my body up, he effortlessly threw me over his shoulder. My eyes fluttered open, vision blurry, but I recognized the dull golden hue. It was definitely the same place as last time.

We passed a medical cart, scalpels and the like spread across it. There was no way, I was about to go down easily, so I reached out, grabbing one of the scalpel's, cutting my hand in the process, before jabbing Markus in his ribs. He dropped me, staggering back, clutching the wound and groaning.

"Markus!?" Wynn hollered out, entering the room, dazed whenever he saw me rising to my feet, weapon in hand. I still felt off, because of the drug, so I could only manage a hunched over position.

A smile formed across his face. "You're just like him. The hatred in your eyes, the desire to cut my throat open, it's delicious. But, as I told him, you need me, kill me and you'll never get out of this place. I am the only help you have."  
Wynn walked forward, and as he reached out to grab me, I took the scalpel, burying the blade in his arm.

"You bitch!" he cried out, back handing me, knocking me to the ground. The scalpel flew across the floor. I had to get back up, I had to fight, Wynn was right, there was no running away.

He kicked me in the stomach, assuring I stayed down. Wynn managed to knock the wind from my lungs, and a wave of nausea washed over me, an excruciating headache forming just a moment after. My vision wavered, one moment I was staring at the floor, seeing the bottom of cabinets in the corners of my vision, and the doctor's shoes, the next, I saw a plain wall, and a barred window, nothing but darkness able to be seen.

I tried getting to my feet, just to have my vision change again, lowering from the window, examining a hand. The arm turned over, revealing Wynn's branding, and another burn, I had no doubt that it was Michael's hand, a dull sting flaring up around my own branding. Lifting my arm, I examined the mark, feeling the urge to increase the pain. I sunk my teeth into the surrounding skin.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Wynn called out, kicking me once again. "Jill, I need to stabilize Markus, and then call Dr. Bonham, tell him that I need him here. Send Richard and Marcine down here, I want extra eyes on Elaine."

Closing my eyes, I saw the nearly empty room again, gaze still focused on Michael's arm, his hand clenching, before he rose from his chair, looking over to the doorway. He was just tall enough to see through the small window, near the top of the door. A figure approached, Michael withdrew, heading towards the bed, before lying down, and pulling the sheet over him, acting as if he'd been asleep. Everything went dark, the door opened, Dr. Granell sighed. "Must've been tired…" She mumbled to herself, before flicking off the light, heading back out of the room.

Wynn grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him, I swung at him, only to have my other arm caught. "Cooperate with me, child!"

"You're trying to kill me!" I shouted back. "I'm not trying to kill you, I just don't care if you die." Lunging forward, I kneed the doctor in his crotch, he let go of me as a reaction. The scalpel was somewhere behind me, it was too dimly lit to bother looking for it, I needed a new weapon. The medical tray was behind Wynn, I needed to find a way passed him. Maybe, I could just distract him?

"Why did you bring me down here?" I questioned, taking a step back. Wynn and I were the only two in the room, Jill must've come to retrieve Markus while I was out of it. That made handling him easier, but, escaping a bit harder.  
"Isn't it obvious? You told me you knew who he was going to kill. All these years, and I've never predicted one of his victims, I just covered it up. Yet, you, you've predicted multiple deaths. Anthony, Nancy, and Jennifer. You had no reaction to their deaths, not a bit surprised, not mournful. And with these last deaths, you began mimicking his behavior, is that something he told you to do?" Wynn copied my movements, moving forward.

If all he wanted me to do was talk, I'd talk. "Is that it? That's what you wanted? Was such little information really worth all this? Do you really think he told me? You forced a makeshift betrothal on me, without knowing the consequences, I wanted those three dead." All I had to do was make sure he didn't see through my facade, talk my way out of his torture.

"How insipid do you believe me to be, child?"

A smirk lined my lips. "You don't? But, doesn't it make sense? Anthony attacked me. Nancy and I never got along, and Dr. Hill? Well, she's just like you, always asking too many Goddamn questions. I was hoping that by going silent, you'd all label me as a lost cause, but, no, you just had to ruin that." Dr. Wynn furrowed his brows, not happy with the information I was relaying. Another step backwards, my foot slide across an object, the scalpel. I quickly bent down, picking up the instrument. "Despite that, I will not hesitate in taking your life with my own hands."

"Hmm, I don't believe you have the lack of empathy to kill someone. Let alone have someone killed. I'd like to put that to the test." His stance relaxed, no longer prepared to attack me. "If you want me to believe you're the mastermind, I want you to prove it."

"Terence?" Dr. Viars called out, two sets of footsteps headed towards us, entering the room. Yet another corrupt doctor, with an older woman in tow. The woman narrowed her eyes, "Markus was stabbed with a scalpel, wielded by a little girl? What a baby." Dr. Wynn laughed. "She isn't a normal little girl. She's very dangerous, responsible for three deaths, or so she claims. Would you like to help me disprove her accusations, Marcine?" She sighed, hand on her hip. "Whatever gets me home faster, Terry."

Dr. Wynn walked over to a drawer, pulling out a zip-tie, before grabbing Marcine, forcing her hands behind her back and binding them together. It took her far too long to realize what he was doing, any attempt to resist, was futile. "What the fuck are you doing?" Viars had been the one to speak. "It's simple, Elaine is going to kill a defenseless victim." He replied without empathy. "I didn't fucking agree to die, you bastard!" She spat out, trying to pull her hands free.  
"Relax, I'm only calling her bluff, no harm will come to you."

Next, he walked over to the medical cart, grabbing a pair of scissors and tossing them over to me, they landed at my feet. "Those will work much better to take a life, at least, for your lack of strength." He headed back over to Marcine, who looked pretty ticked off. "Get on your knees, make it easy for her." Reluctantly, she did as asked. "You have five minutes to show me you can kill."

That hadn't gone as I originally thought, I could only imagine what they planned on doing if I didn't kill this woman. Wynn seemed rather disinterested, not even bothering to watch my movements, while Marcine's eyes were locked onto me. Viars was focused on one all three of us, standing further back in the room. "Are you sure about this?" He asked, turning his attention to Wynn. "She hasn't moved yet." Was his only response.

I glanced around the room, trying to figure a way out. There was a larger door on the right, and a single door on the left. Viars was standing near the left door, and Wynn along with Marcine were more centered. If I got close to Marcine, there was a chance I could catch everyone off guard and dash through the right. I'd figure everything else out once I lost them.  
Bending down, I dropped the scalpel, in exchange for the scissors, Wynn raised a brow, curious as to what my next move was. Slowly, I approached the woman, she took a deep breath, afraid that I might actually be crazy enough to kill her.

At the halfway point, I switched hands, holding the scissors in my left, gripping them tightly, stopping in front of her. Five minutes had to of passed by now, he was just testing, seeing if I'd make a move. My arm twinged as I looked at the woman. Killing her would be so easy, she was helpless, powerless before me. I held her life in my hands.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, seeing a blonde woman walking through a dark hall, a hand reached out, grabbing her hair, yanking her backwards, as a surgical machete was lifted in the air, swinging down to her neck, striking three times in total.

Seeing that gave me an unfulfilled sense. I wanted to feel powerful, I wanted to be more than a scared girl, hiding from her doctor's. Grasping her shoulder, I jabbed the scissors into her neck, right below her chin, she let out a gasp in surprise, as did the doctor's, Wynn moving from his relaxed position. Removing the tool, I rose my hand, stabbing into her neck again.

Wynn seemed rather excited that I just ended his colleague's life and Viars was rather appalled.

"You actually did it… I don't believe it.." He muttered, rather dumbfounded. "But, I still don't think you have that kind of hold over Michael." I backed away, letting the woman fall to the ground. What was it going to take to convince him?

Before he had time to react, I lunged towards him, slicing his shoulder, Viars had moved behind me, grabbing my arms, squeezing my wrist and forcing me to drop the scissors, before holding my arms behind my back. Wynn clutched his wound, gritting his teeth, before reeling back, ready to strike me, when something was thrown through the doorway, landing with a wet thud. This made Wynn freeze, examining the object before mouthing "Jill…"

Lowering his hand, his attention turned to Viars. "Richard, let her go…"

"What, are you insane?"

"Let her go now." He demanded, glancing towards the doorway. I followed his gaze, seeing, Michael a surgical machete grasped in his right hand, lacking his normal blank expression. His brows were furrowed and his lips curved into a frown. He was angry.

Michael extended his free hand, demanding my release, which Viars immediately complied with. My attention turned back to Wynn, as I carefully stepped around Marcines corpse, looking over and seeing the disembodied head, that Michael had thrown. They were afraid of him, and now, hopefully they'd be afraid of me.

Once reaching the door, I grabbed Michael's hand, and he turned, leading me through the halls. His grip was harsh, and he didn't let up his pace.

I was quiet the entire way, until stepping inside the elevator, where I quietly whispered Michael's name, leaning against his shoulder. The moment didn't last long, as he pinned me against the wall, pressing his body against my own. We were both covered in blood, the scent of iron lingering on us, which, with hearing his uneven breathing, seemed to be a turn on for Michael.

His eyes bore into mine, tongue running across his bottom lip, before pressing them to my own, deepening the kiss, something we hadn't explored before. His tongue invaded my mouth, a heat pooling in the bottom of my stomach as a result, my body squirming against his grip, begging for more attention. But, Michael was determined to keep me immobilized, in a show that he was the dominant one. He pulled away, I was finally free to move. A small smile across his lips, he'd been enjoying himself, as had I. The elevator was close to arriving, and someone would be waiting for us.

We stepped out, Dawn was close, fear and disgust written across her face, she quickly walked away, Wynn had probably called her while we were on our way back. Michael took me to the laundry room, where we picked up replacement clothes, and grabbed two towels, one to wipe the blood off our hands, so we wouldn't soil the new clothes, before he dragged me down to the showers. As I stripped down, he watched, silent, unmoving. It was a little creepy, but, welcomed. His gaze didn't move during my entire shower, observing my movements, possibly creating fantasy's in his mind. The smirk still laid on his lips, which was arousing, I liked having him watch me. As soon as I finished, getting redressed, Michael took my hand, leading me back to the girls dorm, where he gave me one more kiss before leaving.

I wasn't bothered for the rest of the night. And Wynn seemed to stop prying into my relationship with Michael, frightened by the display he witnessed that evening.  
Loomis was still on my case, but, that wasn't bothering me anymore. Michael was. He was always on my mind, there wasn't a night that I lay in bed without thinking of him, how passionately he'd kissed me, the pride which beamed off him, because I'd killed that woman. I thought of killing more, I thought of killing Karen, to eliminate my competition, I thought of killing Wynn, Dawn, Viars and Loomis. I didn't want to kill anyone, I only had, because I had no other choice, I didn't know Michael was coming to save me.  
At least, that's what I convinced myself. He'd given me a warning, allowing me to see that he was on his way. I knew all I had to do was stall, or run. But, I didn't want to deal with the joy, the thrill, the rush of power that had washed through me when that woman died by my hands. Thinking back to the moment, Michael hadn't been the only one turned on by the scent of blood, I was aroused. When I looked at Jill's head, I didn't feel disgust or sorrow, my body ached, wanting to feel Michael.

Weeks passed and the ache never went away, the dreams that I lied to Loomis about started happening, I wanted Michael so badly that my mind always pulled away to my darkest fantasies, where he'd take me, over and over again. But, I hid that part of me. It was easy to act normal, to blend in, as if I hadn't imagined taking everyone's life in the girls dorm, slitting all their throats one evening, and sneaking down the halls to the boy's dorm and doing the same.

Though, I never killed Samantha, she was involved with Michael and I, sharing our mark, and, she'd been in my dreams as well. My desire for her wasn't as strong as it was for Michael, but, there was no denying that it was there. I think Michael wants her too.  
Samantha never commented on that fact, though I had asked, all I knew was that she feared him. I wanted to know if she liked him, or if she felt the same urges I did. Her silence, told me all I needed.

She was curious. She wanted to please him and feel his praise just as I do.

 _ **To be continued...**_


End file.
